


The Devil's Tool

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Incandescent Hearts [30]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Abused McCoy, Alien Planet, Bickering, Death Eminent, Defenseless McCoy, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Horrified M'Benga, Humor, Ice Planet, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inappropriate Arousal, Incubus Spock, M/M, Old Hag Syndrome, Passionate kisses, Persistent McCoy, Protective Spock, Puzzled Kirk, Sleep Paralysis, Sleep Sex, Snarky McCoy, Snuggling, Spock in Denial, Succubi & Incubi, Transporter Malfunction, anal examination, incubus rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-03 17:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Spock uses extraordinary measures to save McCoy's life, but it unleashes a demon inside him, a demon which Kirk and McCoy are powerless to combat.





	1. On A Clear Day You Can See Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I was flicking through the television channels several weeks ago when for the briefest moment, there was the image of a man in a shadowy room. The guy was shirtless and very buff and wearing what I sensed were light gray sweatpants with a drawstring tie at the waistband. His brooding face wasn’t very clear in the shadows, but he seemed to have black bangs and was looking very intently at something. And I thought ‘Spock the incubus is stalking a defenseless sleeping McCoy and is on his way to molest him.’ Then, that fast, the image was gone because my machine gun finger had continued clicking onto the next channels. I did not find the image back, of course. I do not know if it was on some show or on a commercial. And forever I will regret not knowing more. Perhaps it was for the best, though, because I made up my own story about that split-second flash I had seen. It became the inspiration for this fic.
> 
> I really have to think about something else besides Star Trek fics. Dialogue runs through my head when I’m trying to go to sleep and when I’m waking up. Now I’m superimposing the guys onto my television screen.
> 
> Which really isn’t all that bad now that I think about it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geoffrey M'Benga sees more of Leonard McCoy than he ever figured he'd see.

Leonard McCoy lay on his back with his feet in the stirrups in the private examining room of his own sickbay on the USS Enterprise. A sheet lay draped over his nether regions in a nod to the patient’s modesty. But the doctors, both the one doing the examining and the one being examined, knew the sheet was merely an illusion. McCoy was naked from the waist down, and both men were very aware of it, despite the fact that they were in a medical situation.

A bright light showed McCoy the shadows that his skinny legs made behind the sheet. It also showed him the form of the person huddled close to what McCoy’s mother had always termed as his private parts.

The metal gadget that held McCoy’s anal canal open for inspection felt cold and invasive. No wonder women felt so violated when they were being scrutinized by a similar device of their vaginal canals. After centuries of medical improvements in almost any other area of the human body, these cold metallic invaders were the best means for spreading the human body open for a general inspection.

Dr. Geoffrey M’Benga made slight movements and slight sounds as he conducted his examination. It had to be rough on M’Benga, too, McCoy realized. After all, McCoy was his boss. But here M’Benga was, looking up McCoy’s butt hole. 

Doing this sort of thing to a patient was one thing. Doing it to one of your own, especially your boss, was quite another. But McCoy had to have some answers. He had to know how bad the damage was.

McCoy glanced up at the ceiling and tried to breathe normally. What the hell were you supposed to look at while some other hands were messing with your privates? He’d been taught from little on up that nobody else was supposed to touch him ‘down there,’ that bad men did bad things to little kids when they wanted to touch the little kids ‘down there.’ He was supposed to run as fast as he could to tell his parents. Well, that was kinda hard to do now. McCoy’s parents couldn’t be reached even if he was in Georgia, for they were both in a better place and resting after having lived good, productive lives. At times like this, McCoy almost wished that he was with them.

The lubricating jelly was cold and slimy on McCoy’s cooling exposed flesh and sticky whenever M'Benga lifted his hands. He imagined that M’Benga could see the goose bumps. Of course, there were other, larger, more prominent features of McCoy’s anatomy that were probably demanding more of M’Benga’s attention. They were right in front of M’Benga’s nose and accounted for countless bouts of sexual pleasure for McCoy and one daughter growing up without McCoy back on Earth.

McCoy felt long fingers moving on him and in him, and it reminded him of other, longer fingers moving on him and in him. McCoy squeezed his eyes closed and tried not to think of those other fingers. But these fingers belonging to M’Benga were gentle, but not nearly as exciting as those other, longer, probing fingers had been. For even through the pain and humiliation of those other fingers, McCoy had felt a response that he had wanted to deny. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t. The fingers were too insistent, and McCoy’s hunger had been too intense.

McCoy pulled an arm across his face to hide the shame of his present ordeal and the humiliation of those other sensuous ordeals.

McCoy couldn’t think of those now. He was safe now, safe from that demanding creature and McCoy’s own emotions. These were the hands of a friend and a healer who only wanted to help him. These were not the hands of the sadist who had attacked him and had made him yearn for more.

“Sorry, Leonard. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m almost finished.”

McCoy pulled his arm down slightly. He must’ve moaned out loud and not realized it. He should tell M’Benga that he hadn’t hurt McCoy. It was McCoy’s memories that were stirring him so much. But McCoy couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t explain to M’Benga the ambivalent feelings that M’Benga’s handling of his private parts were causing him.

With a sigh, M’Benga scooted back on the rolling stool and clicked off the bright light. He took McCoy’s feet out of the stirrups and helped him scoot up with the towel draped over McCoy’s lower regions. Then he sat back down, peeled off the rubber gloves, and pushed aside the magnifying glass in front of his eyes.

“Well, Leonard, you have had sexual intercourse in your anal canal recently. And several times. There are some fresh lesions and some healing ones.” M’Benga frowned. “What the hell have you been doing, Leonard? Have you been pushing something up yourself and been cutting yourself up?”

“No, I have not been doing anything that sick. If I wanted to get off, I’d just do it the old-fashioned way. I’d just abuse my dick,” McCoy snapped.

M‘Benga rolled himself and the chair around to be closer to McCoy‘s face. He stopped at McCoy‘s hand and looked thoughtful. “Some guys like to have the sensation of anal penetration, even if they have to do it to themselves.”

“Well, I’m not one of those guys, got it?”

M’Benga wiped a hand over his face. “I’m not the bad guy here, Leonard. I’m the guy who is trying to help you. Remember? You came to me and asked me to take a look at your rectum and colon. I looked. Now I can only give you my medical opinion and try to be a friend, all at the same time.”

“I know. And I appreciate your discretion. And I really appreciate not having one of the nurses present to assist you.”

“They would smother you to death with concern, and you know it.” The ghost of a smile flicked over M’Benga’s dark face. “And laugh about you dicking yourself later.”

“Yeah, let’s not give them the impression that I’m just an ordinary guy, or anything weird like that,” McCoy snipped. He tucked his bent arm behind his head so he could look up better.

“Leonard. You’re the boss. You breathe rarefied air, remember? You’re not one of the common herd like I am.”

“Well, I am, in this instance. I’m just like anyone else with a sore ass. I’ve got nerve endings, and they are hurting like hell.”

“Well, you know the drill,” M’Benga said as he got up and washed his hands. “Sitz baths. Treat yourself like you got hemorrhoids, because, in a sense, you do.” He dried his hands on a paper towel, disposed of it, and sat down again by McCoy’s hand. “And get your lover to use a lot more lubrication and have him go a little easier on you.” M’Benga got almost a grin on his face. “After all, you aren’t going anywhere. You must want him in there. So he should take his time and treat you right. Talk him into romance instead of such rough play.” He chuckled. "Unless, of course, that's your thing."

"No, it's not my thing!" McCoy snapped, then frowned. “What are you now? Someone in the lovelorn business? And what in the hell makes you think that I’ve got a lover, anyway?!”

M’Benga looked surprised. “The wounds are either self-inflicted or are abrasions caused by an inconsiderate person making love to you.”

“Well, it’s neither! So there!”

M’Benga frowned, really puzzled, and became a victim of his own wild imagination. “There’s two guys? Or more?!” M’Benga looked truly startled. “Are you saying that you have multiple partners at the same time, like in some sort of sex orgy?! Are two of them doing it to you at the same time?!” M’Benga looked horrified and thrilled all at once. “Do you have something kinky going on, Leonard?”

“No, I do not have something kinky going on! And where are getting all this shit that you’re spewing, anyway?!”

“Well, something is certainly going on, and I’m beginning to think that it isn’t consensual.”

McCoy bit his lips together and did not give any more information, but it was clear that M’Benga had hit on a major point.

M’Benga’s eyes got big with a new realization. “Are you being raped?!”

McCoy turned his head aside. He could not answer.

“You are! That’s it, isn’t it?! You are being raped! Leonard! How?!”

With his Devil’s tool! McCoy wanted to scream, but didn’t.

M’Benga was just plain horrified now and was verging on hysteria. “Leonard, I do not know the circumstances, but this matter must be dealt with immediately! And it must stop! Captain Kirk must know of it! Nonconsensual sex cannot be tolerated! It’s against all kinds of laws, and it isn’t even decent!” M’Benga was clearly outraged for mankind in general and McCoy in particular.

“No dealing with it,” McCoy muttered. “No Kirk. Nobody gets involved.” He gave M’Benga a hard look. “Understood?”

“But if it’s one man or several, they must be stopped. Otherwise, nobody on the ship will be safe. Anarchy will reign. The Enterprise will become a rogue ship with lust-filled pirates flying it! We’ll become the scourge of the universe!”

McCoy stared at M’Benga with incredulity. He hadn’t known that Geoffrey M’Benga could lose his professional demeanor so easily. Of course, what McCoy had told M’Benga had come as a great shock. Not only was McCoy someone whom M’Benga knew, but McCoy’s story offended M’Benga’s sense of decency. The man was clearly outraged and needed to be placated.

But McCoy did not have time for niceties. And he needed to ground M’Benga fast. Besides, M’Benga’s panic was sounding a little stupid to McCoy. He was the one who'd been violated, not M'Benga. M'Benga shouldn't be shouting louder than the victim.

“Civilization as we know it will fall all because I do not report what has been happening to me? Is that what you're saying? The fate of mankind hinges on me and the condition and sanctity of my asshole?”

M’Benga swallowed hard. “Sorry. I, I got carried away, I guess.” 

"It's okay. It was a lot to accept," McCoy soothed while thinking that he should be the man being babied.

Then M'Benga reconsidered McCoy’s words. “’Has been happening.’” he lisped.

“Hmm?” McCoy questioned.

“You said ‘has been happening,’ not ‘had happened.’ So, it has been more than once that you’ve been attacked. Leonard, you must do something to protect yourself.”

“Geoffrey, there is nothing that can be done. Don’t you understand? I cannot hide from a shadow. I just have to take what comes my way and hope for mercy.”

“You appear not to have been shown any, so far.”

“But at least I still live. I do not want to make it angry. Who knows what might happen then?”

“Leonard, you cannot live this way. You must have help.”

“There is none. It’s partly my fault, so it’s logical that it should be my punishment.”

“But, but, why? Why did you tell me all of this if I can do nothing for you? I feel so helpless.”

“I am sorry to have invaded on your friendship like this, but I had to tell someone. That way if, if something happens to me, someone will know.”

“But it will be too late for you,” M’Benga said with the mounting horror seizing him.

McCoy frowned. “I think that it already is too late for me.”

“Leonard, get away from here. Leave the Enterprise if you must, in order to save your life.”

“Excellent advice, if it’d do any good,” McCoy said wistfully.

“Then at least be careful, my friend.”

McCoy gave M’Benga a tired smile. “Now, that I can do.”

Later, Leonard McCoy sat thinking in his quarters. M'Benga had advised him to leave the Enterprise to save his life. Now, how could he do that when the Enterprise was his life? As much as he hated the concept of space, that's where his home and career and friends now were. He could not turn his back on space, anymore than he could desert his own body. No, he could not leave. He had to find a way to cope with his present problem, and he had to do it here on the Enterprise.

It seemed that his life aboard this starship had always pointed to the time when he would have to deal with something like this. He just had never known the particulars or nature of the situation. Now he knew. 

And it all seemed to start when a certain pointed-eared, aggravating Vulcan had come into his life to mess up his bromance with his best friend Jim Kirk and the great life that was going to be theirs in the space program.

Leonard McCoy could remember it like it was yesterday. He could see it all. San Francisco. A student hangout near Star Fleet Academy. Piss and vinegar days. Great to be alive feelings racing through the room with all of that testosterone from all of those lusty males. Having the attention of the greatest guy in the universe sitting across the table from you. And then HE showed up to cause all sorts of unrest. Of course, the condescending bastard didn't realize that he was stirring up trouble.

The greatest thorns in your life never do. They just leave wounds on your heart that torment and fester and scab over. But they never truly heal on their own.

And then they rupture.


	2. Cleo And Meo Doesn't Include You-O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy is not too happy with Spock being on the Enterprise team.

At first it had been just Bones McCoy and Jim Kirk at Star Fleet Academy. And it'd been great! Just him and Jim facing the adventures of space exploration together! Oh, there had been other guys, of course, fellow cadets and buddies, for the bullshitting, the drinking, and the hot, hot women who allowed the good looking cadets into their panties and their hearts. They were all in school together, really free of parental authority for the first time in their young lives. They knew, though, that they really didn't want to mess up this opportunity. To screw up now after they'd come so far would really mess up the rest of their lives by forcing them to be something that they didn't want to be: ordinary.

It'd been done by others before them, the big screw up. There were plenty of examples to quell the most juvenile acting heart. Enough horror stories circulated the Academy campus to make any rule-snubbing guy have second thoughts. Better and more qualified guys than them had been tossed out of Star Fleet for really dumb infractions. It was enough to make a person reconsider if crazy risks were worth taking.

That's why at times it was puzzling to McCoy why Jim Kirk could sometimes tempt the gods and the fates by doing incredibly stupid things with his career. But, if his golden charm and magnetic personality didn't get him out of some new dilemma he was in, then his unbelievable good luck did. Kirk was such a sunny person with his daring-do and his not-to-be-believed stunningly good looks that people just naturally gravitated to him. That included women eager to hand over access to their lives and their underwear to all sorts of opponents who didn't quite measure up to his prowess in the bedroom, the classroom, or the battlefield. Everyone wanted to dick him. But that was alright, because he wanted to dick everyone right back. He seemed to know where the greatest parties were being held or the most glorious battles were being fought, so people scrambled to follow his lead. And on top of all of that, people wanted Kirk to win. They wanted women to surrender their morals to him and men to surrender their weapons to him. Likely as not, they would all be buddies who would be drinking and partying with Kirk before dawn anyway. That's just the kind of easy way that Kirk had with people.

It was fun to watch Jim Kirk operate. And it was fun to be with him because so many crumbs from Jim Kirk's plate fell to his companions. And that generally meant Leonard McCoy got in on the action. 

Oh, it was good to be young and alive then! Someone famous had said that once, McCoy thought with a suddenly serious look on his face. Or maybe it was a line from a song? 'Green Fields?' Wasn't that a song from a musical from the Twentieth Century, back in the Golden Day of Musicals? McCoy seemed to recall that it was.

“Earth to McCoy," Jim Kirk said, breaking in on McCoy's thoughts.

“That's from 'E.T.,'" McCoy said wearily as he sat hunched over his drink and tried to hear Kirk over the noise of young voices all around them at the campus watering hole.

Kirk frowned. "What? Are we playing some trivia game I didn't realize?" 

“We're always playing some trivia game," McCoy muttered as he swallowed a sip of beer that he really didn't even taste.

Kirk studied his melancholy friend as they sat at the noisy student bar. He wished that McCoy wasn't so serious all the time. The older guy seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. Well, there were probably good reasons for McCoy's morose attitude. Failed marriages and relationships can do that to a guy after awhile. It's difficult to be optimistic in the face of all the adversity that McCoy had known. No wonder that he was a little jaded by the experience. 

That was one reason why Kirk had befriended McCoy in the first place. McCoy had needed Kirk so damn bad. The funny thing was that Kirk had gotten so that he needed McCoy right back. Kirk didn't know if McCoy ever actually realized that Kirk was telling him the truth when he told McCoy of his reliance on him. It was as if McCoy thought Kirk didn't really need anyone. On that topic, McCoy was dead wrong. Kirk needed people, certain people, in his life. And he wasn't quiet about letting them know that fact. Whether they BELIEVED the charismatic charmer or not was another matter. But he liked McCoy and wanted only good things to happen to him. Kirk figured that it was about time that the damn bastard caught a few breaks. 

“What's really wrong, Bones?" Kirk finally asked after listening to McCoy grouse around about everything from the lousy weather (too rainy in San Francisco) to his new undershorts (too damn scratchy!). "You've been chewing on some sour rag ever since we got this new assignment on the Enterprise sewn up. This is the place where we're supposed to be happy and celebrating, not giving Macbeth's weird sisters a run for their money. We got the Enterprise back and we're taking her out for space exploring for five years. Think of it! Five years! It doesn't get any better than this!"

“Gotta year?!" McCoy snapped. "It'll take that long for me to tell you about what's wrong with traveling five years in space! It ain't natural, I tell you! It ain't natural for a man to seal himself up in a tin can, shoot himself out into the great unknown, and hope all goes well! It's like playing Russian roulette with all of the cylinders of the gun loaded!"

“Bones!" Kirk said with sudden insight. "You're truly unhappy!"

“Oh?! Really?!" McCoy's eyes snapped as well as his words. "What was your first clue?! Words aren't making that much of an impression on you!"

“Your morose attitude?" Kirk quipped, half teasingly, half seriously.

McCoy held up his hand. "Don't! Don't start! Don't! Even! Start!" 

“Come on, Bonesy. Tell Daddy all about it. What's wrong with the best damn doctor in the fleet?" He ended his plea with a warm smile and a broad wink.

“Oh, hell, how could I ever be angry with you?!" McCoy demanded, more angry with himself than with Kirk. He hated being petty, but that's the way that the situation left him feeling.

“You can't," Kirk said in triumph, but with such an endearing grin that McCoy could only love him more for his victory. "But, honestly, Bones," Kirk said, leaning toward his friend. "What is wrong? You know that I don't like it when someone I love is hurting."

“"That!" McCoy declared with his own triumph as he straightened.

“What?" Kirk asked, truly puzzled, as he straightened, also.

“You love me! You can say it so innocently, so naturally, that people have to believe you!"

“But, Bones," Kirk said with a laugh. "I do love you."

“I know."

“And we're going to have some great space adventures together."

“I know that, too. You keep telling me that, like the gods have whispered some secret knowledge into your ear." McCoy rolled his eyes dramatically as Kirk grinned at his remark. "But, Jim, it's space! I hate space! There's nothing there!"

“I know, Bones," Kirk answered patiently. "That's why they call it 'space.'"

“My finite mind does not accept that. One thing ends, then something else begins. That's what I believe in," he said as he marked places on the table between them with the side of his hand to illustrate his point. "But space! There's nothing to it!"

Kirk picked up on the double meaning of McCoy's definition of space even if McCoy didn't. "You missed your calling, Bones. You should've been a comedian. You're great with understatement." 

“I'm not being funny, Jim."

“I know. None of the great ones ever think that they are. Look at Jerry Lewis. He never did believe that he was funny, although the world told him otherwise. But, seriously, Bones, what's the problem? What's got you so upset, outside of your issues about space in general? We've got the greatest crew and the greatest ship in the universe."

“That's just it!"

Kirk was taken aback. "What? We don't have the greatest crew and the greatest ship in the universe?" 

“No. Yes. I don't know," McCoy finished miserably.

“What? Spit it out, Doctor. I need your expertise and your viewpoint. But most of all, I need your faith in what we're doing. Confide in me, Bones. And that's an order."

McCoy leaned closer, so Kirk did, also. 

“Jim! I don’t get it! Why are you having that Spock be your First Officer?!”

Jim Kirk pulled back and gave his best friend a lazy grin after flashing him an unguarded 'Oh, that's it' look. McCoy's old animosity against the alien Vulcan was rearing its ugly head again. “Because he’s the best man for the job, Bones, just like you are.”

“But he’s a cold-hearted bastard and has the rule book shoved firmly up his rectum so it's handy and has a voice that just drips with barely controlled condescension and--”

“Outside of the fact that you can't seem to stand him, what don't you like about him?" Kirk teased, hoping to distract McCoy.

“As I asked you before, gotta year to listen?!"

“Look, I know he seems a little squirrelly and oddball to you--”

“A little squirrelly and oddball doesn’t even begin to cover it!”

“Give it awhile,” Kirk urged with his sunny smile as he twirled his drink in his hand. “He’ll grow on you.”

“Great! Now I have to appreciate moss and lichen and mildew and corrosion AND a Vulcan growing on me! I‘ll look like a damp cellar wall with iron spikes in it! Green iron spikes!”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you can get a little over-dramatic?"

“Maybe I've got a reason! Someone has to knock some sense into your head about him! A Vulcan! What next?! A Romulan taking over Scotty's job in engineering?! Maybe Spock has a Romulan cousin looking for work. Maybe they can invite in their whole damn family and take over the Enterprise in time!"

Kirk frowned. "You think that Spock is part of some conspiracy theory?"

"Yes! No! Hell, it's Spock! I don't know what he's thinking most of the time! How would I know what's he's got on his mind?! He's Vulcan!"

Kirk glanced behind McCoy. “Shh! Here he comes. He’ll hear you.”

“Maybe that would be for the best,” McCoy snapped as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Let him know right up front how welcome he’s gonna be!”

“Bones. I want him with me,” Kirk said pointedly. “He’s a tough little bastard, but he’d bust everything he’s got for me. He's the damnedest scrapper I've ever seen. He doesn't know when to quit. He'd put a pit bull to shame. He's out to prove himself, and that makes him unstoppable. He's more loyal than a German shepherd. I need him.”

“Great! I hadn’t planned for it, but I guess I could make a career change this early in my life! Maybe the dark side of the moon is in need of a general practitioner! I hear that wonderful opportunities are just waiting there for the right eager young man!”

“Bones, I can't lose you. I don't care if the dark side of the moon would want to make you its king. I can't offer you anything so exotic as that, only me and my dream. I can't do this space exploring stuff without you. Sure I want Spock, but I want you with me, too. Don't make me try to choose between you two. I can't. I need you both,” he said seriously. "I want you both to have my back."

McCoy bit his lips together and looked wild. Kirk knew that McCoy loved him as a brother. How could McCoy fight against his own feelings?

“Pretty please?” Kirk said in a lighter tone and nearly winked. He could see that McCoy was softening. “You know I can’t do without you. Bottom line, I need you. I wouldn‘t want to try it without you. You‘re my rock. You always have been. Don‘t set me adrift now.”

Kirk had done everything but confessed his undying love for McCoy, and McCoy knew that it would’ve been the truth if Kirk had done so. Kirk needed him. And what Kirk had said was true. Bottom line, Kirk couldn’t do without him.

McCoy had no arguments or willpower left to argue. He was finished, and he knew it. “Turn your wattage down before you blow something vital that I can't fix!"

Kirk grinned all over himself and even threw in some misty eyes. "You'll never know how much you just pleased me," he murmured, as if McCoy had just given him the best sex that Kirk had ever experienced. But they both knew it had been better than sex. It involved forever friendships that would extend beyond the grave. Kirk was his, whether McCoy wanted him or not. Unabashed love shone out of Kirk's eyes, and there was no way that McCoy could ignore that.

"Oh, hell!” McCoy muttered in disgust and defeat as Spock walked into McCoy's range of vision.

Spock gave McCoy a look of disapproval as if the ‘Oh, hell!’ had been about Spock’s appearance. Then he turned his back on McCoy as if the doctor had ceased to exist for him. “Captain Kirk, I am reporting for duty.”

“I can see that, Mr. Spock," Kirk said amiably. "Welcome aboard. You know Dr. McCoy?" He nodded toward the other side of the table.

Kirk's two top officers mutually grunted a barely civil greeting at each other. Kirk imperceptibly tightened his lips at the mutual snub, but drew no further attention to the coldness that the other two men had openly expressed for each other. Hopefully, time and serving together would help alleviate a lot of the disdain between them. 

Spock continued to stand at attention, and it was starting to become conspicuous and ridiculous. 

“Relax, Spock,” Kirk said with his best sunny smile. “We’ll all friends here.”

Spock kept his rigid attention. “I am on duty now, sir.”

“Damn if you aren’t. And doing Star Fleet proud, I might add,” McCoy muttered.

Spock didn’t turn, but McCoy knew that Spock was well aware of him. If anything, the dark Vulcan eyes slid slightly in McCoy's direction and the Vulcan mouth's thinned slightly.

That's all of the encouragement that McCoy needed. 

“Rule book wedged up in there pretty tightly, Vulcan? How do you ever take a crap without getting it all dirty? Have you had a nightlight installed in your ass so you can read the rule book under the covers after you're supposed to be asleep? Getting pretty daring there, aren't you?”

Spock’s shoulders snapped rigidly and he pivoted rather than turned on McCoy. “I do not understand your animosity, Doctor.”

“’I do not understand your animosity, Doctor,’” McCoy mocked in singsong fashion as he jumped to his feet. “And I do not understand your prissy-assed attitude, Commander!”

The two new crew mates, as well as Jim Kirk’s new chief officers and main advisers, glared at each other. Kirk swallowed a sigh. He’d wanted to put these two together, mainly because of their diversity. And, boy, was he going to be getting it from them!

Kirk found his feet and stood between them. As if nothing was wrong, he looked from one belligerent face to the other with a pleasant smile. “Well, gentlemen, now that we’ve broken the ice, shall we board the Enterprise and get some space exploring done?”

Spock and McCoy glared at each other, but both obeyed. Both loved Jim Kirk in his own way and would follow him anywhere. For that reason alone, they would serve together.

But they didn’t have to like it .

 

But over time, they had gradually grown accustomed to each other. Serving together for a common cause tends to do that without producing much friction. And they had developed a grudging respect for each other. Each could see the vast capabilities in the other one. They could even advise Jim Kirk and be part of a loyal team for him.

And whether each would ever admit it, they had formed a friendship of sorts. Maybe it wasn't what Kirk wanted for them, but they could at least be halfway civil to each other and not cause too much worry for Kirk.

But the situation between them could stand a lot of improving.


	3. While Strolling Through The Park One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The transporter has inadvertently sent McCoy and Spock to a frozen ice planet, and McCoy is not one bit happy about it.

It had started, as most things did between these two, innocently enough. Kirk had thought that they'd needed some rest and relaxation. It'd seemed like a good idea at the time. But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

“Go down to that planet, Kirk said,” McCoy muttered as he drew his arms more closely around himself for warmth. “It’ll be like a vacation for you two, he said,” McCoy continued. “Get to know each other better, he said.” He threw out his arm in illustration at the bleak frozen landscape all around them as a big puff of his breath blew into the icy air. “Well, here we are! Welcome to your death place, Spock! Exothermic hell!”

They crunched along in silence for a few moments, but Spock did not rise to the bait of an opportunity to speak even though McCoy had graciously conceded the floor, or in this case, the snow pack to him.

So McCoy continued his rant. Maybe he just couldn’t stand the silence or the sound of all of that snow crunching underfoot. “You’ll freeze off your green balls first, you know. And then select places north such as that haughty nose of yours and then those damn pointed ears! You’ll look like one of those dogs that’s had its ears cropped! Won’t look right, I tell you. It won’t look right, at all. I’ve kinda gotten used to you with those damn pointed ears. Makes you look startled or alert or intelligent even, like you're actually paying attention when you aren't. If the points freeze off your ears, then you’ll lose whatever personality you ever did have. You'd be just like the rest of us round-eared jerks.”

That mishmash of random remarks about Spock’s physiognomy failed to stir any comment out of Spock, either, so the pair trudged along in the snow for a few moments in silence.

It was not meant to last, though, and it didn’t.

“Just look at this place, will you?!” McCoy complained. “I don’t know why Jim Kirk thought that this would be a vacation wonderland for us! Me, I would’ve settled for Hawaii! And you would’ve had an opportunity to finally get warm! And we could watch those island girls shake their butts around and maybe get a glimpse of what’s under all of that grass that rustles around so enticingly in those skirts!” 

A devil seized McCoy. He’d get a reaction out of Spock yet.

“Have you ever wondered what was under all of that grass in those native skirts, Spock? Do you have any idea what you are supposed to do if a hula girl wants to shake that grass around for you? Would you like to go inside one of those little grass huts that those gals wear? Maybe get a taste of island spice for yourself? Hmm? Hmm?” McCoy prodded.

“Doctor, I suggest that you preserve your breath and your body heat for as long as possible.”

“Why?! Die now or die later! Helluva choice, if you ask me! At least we had the foresight to bring these parkas along, or we‘d been long gone by now.” He tried not to lick his cold, dry lips. "I wish we'd had the same insight to have brought some water. I might have to start eating the snow, but who knows what chemicals are in it?"

"Try not to think about your thirst, Doctor. Or your coldness."

"Kinda hard to do, Vulcan. I'm freezing my ass off here."

“The temperature is only a few degrees below freezing. It is just cold enough to produce snow.”

“Just enough to produce death, don’t you mean,” McCoy muttered. “I wouldn’t even be too comfortable if the temperature was twenty degrees warmer. And you, you like it hotter than the hubs of hell!”

“That is a well known fact, Doctor.”

“You must be getting colder by the moment.”

“I try not to dwell on it." A moment passed. "But it is true that I have been warmer.”

“That's what I thought," McCoy said with an evil chuckle. "That damn compulsion of yours to tell the truth will always trip you up, won't it?"

"It is more a matter of principle with me, besides being my inborn inclination."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’re taking it damn stoically, though. I gotta say that much for you. You should be ranting your ass off!”

“At the moment, I do not have much choice in the matter of my present circumstances. And expressing my opinion of our situation seems immensely futile.”

“Immensely futile, eh? Well, I’m going to make damn sure that someone, SOMETHING, knows that I am damn irritated by the situation we’re in, even if the only one within earshot is you.”

“I am well aware of your views on our present predicament. You do not need to elaborate for my benefit.”

“Damn straight! This is a life or death situation. That’s why I don’t know why you aren’t as stirred up about it as I am.”

“I have accepted the logic of the matter, and I have moved on.”

“Then you have probably already accepted the inevitable for us, too. We are dealing with our eminent deaths, aren't we?”

“I have recognized the possibility, but I have not given into it. I am trying to keep a positive outlook.”

“Well, forgive me for correcting you, but you’ve never seemed like a cockeyed optimist before. And I’ve known you for awhile now. Why start being optimistic now? It’s so against what I’ve ever known of you. Why aren’t you gnashing your teeth and cursing the heavens? Tearing your hair out by the roots or beating on your breast with your clenched fists?”

“I am trying to approach our situation as positively as I am able."

"No shit?! Then what the hell is your light-hearted evaluation of this mess?!"

"Each moment of Life is one moment stolen from Death,” Spock muttered. "Each breath we get to take is another victory for Life."

“Now you start in with Golden Platitudes! Why wasn’t I sent with, say, Chekov? I could’ve at least learned some Russian words on my way out. As his body descended into death, he would’ve forgotten English and started babbling in his native tongue. I wouldn’t have known what in the hell he’d be saying, but that might be a blessing in disguise.” His eyes rolled toward Spock. “In the meantime, I’m understanding everything that you’re saying! All too well!”

“If you wish me to revert to my native Vulcan language, I can so accommodate you quite readily, Doctor.”

“No. I might as well know what I’m pissed off about.”

That drew Spock’s curiosity and he glanced at McCoy. “Are you angry with me? And if so, why?”

“You’re so damn right about everything! Don't you ever make a mistake?! I can’t find a flaw in your logic! ‘Each moment of Life is one moment stolen from Death,’” McCoy mocked. “In this instance, I have to agree with you. And let me tell you that that‘s like drinking a beaker of gall and wormwood for me to say.”

A smile tickled Spock’s lips in spite of their dire circumstances. “To borrow an expression from you, I have lived long enough to hear you admit to something like that.”

“Well, every man should have some high points in his life,” McCoy muttered as he raised his head and glanced around. “Hell, Hannah, it’s snowing again!”

“Who is Hannah? I was not aware that we had female companionship.”

“Oh, Hannah is just a substitute for hell.”

“I like this game," Spock noted with interest. "Will Hannah be the substitute for all time? Or does the substitute change on a daily basis?”

McCoy stopped crunching in the snow and stared at Spock. “Don’t you go ape shit on me! That‘s all I need now! A crazy Vulcan going ape shit!”

“How would I endeavor to do that?”

“Never mind,” McCoy said under his breath to himself and started trudging through the snow again. “I think you’ve already done it.”

“I am not as far gone as you believe me to be, Doctor,“ Spock said as he kept pace with McCoy. “Your game is inventive and keeps the brain occupied.”

“And keeps the mind distracted.”

“That is correct.”

“So I won’t be thinking constantly that these might be my last moments of life.”

“How logical you are becoming, Doctor.”

“Bullshit! I’m scared out of my mind!”

Spock glanced at McCoy. “I am, also, Doctor.”

“You?!” McCoy hooted. “Scared?! What’s that like?! Your left eyelid twitches a little?! You clear your throat more? A fart actually manages to escape that permanent clinch you keep on your hallowed asshole?! How can you allow yourself to show that much emotion? How can you allow yourself to be scared?”

“It is not a matter of allowing myself, Doctor. I would be a fool not to be afraid and a fool not to admit it.”

McCoy looked at Spock with wonder. A lot of things might escape McCoy's notice on a daily basis, but McCoy knew honest truth when he heard it. “I think that’s as open as you’ve ever been with me, Spock. I‘m honored.”

It was a bonding moment. McCoy felt his heart enlarge and blossom with comradeship for his companion. They were brothers, after all.

And then Spock went and ruined it.

“Perhaps I have not been the one who was closed minded,” Spock muttered between tight lips.

“What are you insinuating?!”

Spock gave McCoy a scathing look. “I thought that I was doing more than insinuating.”

“Well, of all the--! What's gotten you suddenly so pissed off?!” Then a wide grin creased his face as he stopped walking. “You’re distracting me again, aren’t you?”

“And kept your heart pumping. Your cheeks are pinking up nicely,” Spock answered as he crunched along again. "You are most welcomed."

McCoy hurried to catch up. “Sneaky little bastard, aren’t you?!”

“I wish you would refrain from using that expression, Doctor. My parents were legally married by Vulcan law.”

“Well, ‘bastard’ in this case really isn’t a derogatory term.”

Spock shot McCoy an unguarded look. “It certainly is not a term of endearment, either.”

McCoy grinned. “Well, now, don’t go assuming that.”

“Are you meaning that it is an endearment?”

McCoy looked up as he glanced aside. “Why the hell not?” he breathed. He turned his head back to Spock. “Sure, it’s an endearment, you little bastard.” He was feeling magnanimous again.

“I do not hear it used for women, or for that matter, in front of them.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to embarrass their sensibilities now, would we? Women get picky what they will and won’t allow from us guys. They make us use table napkins and tuck in our shirts and learn all kinds of tricky round dances. And we let them get by with it because we like their cooking and their softness and their clucking around us. They civilize us guys. And for that, we let them litter the tops of our furniture with hand crocheted doilies and tell us what kind of language we can use.”

“So we use terms of endearment with the females.”

“That’s right.”

“I am amazed that you would think of me in those terms.”

“Well, hell, Spock, more people would, if you just gave them the chance.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You gotta be a regular guy. Open up more. Relate to people.” He pursed his lips. “Let people know that you could like them back.”

“I like Jim Kirk. He is easy to like.”

He glanced at Spock. “I hate to disappoint you, but it isn’t what you’re doing. It’s Jim. He could charm bark off a tree,” McCoy said with a deep sigh. “Or a young girl out of her virginity.” McCoy frowned as his mind went back over what Spock had said. “Are you saying that I’m not very approachable?” 

“You can seem erratic,” Spock answered, trying to temper the slur but still trying to get the idea across.

“Well, I suppose that’s true. But maybe I’m just protecting myself. I don’t quite know how I stand with you, Spock. Nothing I do seems to warm your heart any.” 

Their dire circumstances made McCoy incautious. Why the hell not say what he was thinking?! Their life expectancy might be all of two minutes. Why waste time with bullshit now? Tell the little green bastard the truth. So McCoy took a deep breath and followed his own advice.

“You just plain don’t like a thing about me, do you?” McCoy muttered. “You probably even hate the great state of Georgia, simply because I’m from it.”

Spock frowned. “That is not true.”


	4. Getting To Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing the brutal conditions on the ice planet force McCoy and Spock to help each other.

"Hmm?"

"Doctor, I am not prejudiced against the state of Georgia simply because it is your home state. I believe that I would enjoy it very much for its warmth and Southern hospitality. And you are incorrect about your other assumption, also. You possess many sterling qualities. I have always had the greatest amount of respect for you, Doctor.” Perhaps their dire circumstances was making Spock want to tell the truth, also. For whatever reason, Spock continued. “I do not understand why you do not return that professional admiration for me, though.”

That salvo hit McCoy right in the midsection. So the guy did have feelings that could be hurt. And that didn‘t say a lot for Leonard McCoy, the supposed humanitarian. He had always blathered on as if Spock felt nothing or was deaf. Turned out, there was nothing wrong with Spock’s hearing or his feelings. And that made McCoy feel lousy about himself.

“Why did I not return anything nice about you? Probably because I’m a damned bastard,” McCoy muttered, not feeling very good about himself. He had been prejudiced, and that was the least of his sins. He hadn’t even been decent. That hurt probably more than anything.

That confession alarmed Spock. “Doctor?”

“I suppose I’ve been jealous of how much Jim likes you.” Ah, truth he hadn’t realized about himself! But still the truth.

“So it is you, and not me.”

“That’s about what it amounts to.”

They crunched along for a few more steps.

“I appreciate learning that, Doctor. You are very brave to confess something like that to someone you do not trust.”

“Oh, I’ve trusted you all along, Vulcan. I’ve never worried when you had my back. I just didn’t always like you.”

“And now you are liking me?”

McCoy grinned. “You’re beginning to grow on me.” He was pretty certain that Spock could not see him smirk, but the little bastard could probably hear it in his voice.

Spock WAS beginning to grow on him, McCoy realized. That amazed him. Too bad that they wouldn’t get an opportunity to explore this new relationship that was suddenly blossoming for them in this desert of snow.

Then McCoy sobered as he realized another truth. He was getting tired of plowing through this endless snow. Moving was keeping him warm, but his body was starting to protest the forced march. Meanwhile, the Vulcan showed no signs of tiring. 

McCoy made a decision. 

“Ah, Spock, it’s not right that I’m holding you back.”

Spock shot him a sharp look. “What are you saying?”

“Why don’t I stay here while you go ahead and find us shelter?”

“We go together.”

“Damn, stubborn--” McCoy muttered.

“Come, it will not be too much further.”

“What?! Do you have some sort of compass in your ass?! Some radar that I don’t have in mine?!”

“Just come with me, Doctor. Now.”

“Damn, stubborn--” McCoy muttered, but stumbled after his nemesis. “You let me know when you find your ideal spot!” he hollered at Spock’s back just ahead of him.

“I will.” Spock's voice sounded muffled.

McCoy put his head down and pushed onward. "This shit looks all the same to me," he muttered as he plunged into the deep snow. "See one pile of snow, you've seen them all. But HE needs a special place to die."

"Are you coming, Doctor?" Spock called over his shoulder.

"Yes!" McCoy yelled back. "Yes, Mother," McCoy muttered in his normal voice. "Right behind you."

Spock stopped and waited for McCoy to come abreast of him. "You are tiring. I will help you," Spock offered as he reached out.

McCoy pulled his arm back. "You'll do no such thing! Now, mush, you huskies! Mush!"

Spock glared at McCoy, but complied. He had not recognized Sergeant Preston's famous cry to his sled dogs, but Spock knew that it was some sort of slur. He did not wait for an explanation from his ill-tempered companion, but plunged ahead on his quest.

A few moments later, Spock paused.

“Why are you stopping? Have you found a place to pitch our tent or to build our igloo? Or do you have to take a crap? I wouldn't advise baring your ass and squatting in this terrain. Your hind end would get damn cold before you get relief.”

“There is a shelter of some sort here. A small cave. We could get out of the wind and snow for awhile.”

“Or for a long time,” McCoy muttered sarcastically as he followed Spock into the small indentation. He looked around. “Home, sweet, home.“ He frowned. “This could be our tomb, you know.”

“Some are not afforded this much.”

“Well, aren’t you the little ray of optimistic sunshine?! A lemonade kind of guy, aren‘t you?! You found something to like about our little sanctuary.”

Spock glanced at him. “Merely stating a logical fact.”

“Well, you could keep your logic to yourself!” McCoy snapped.

Spock was puzzled by McCoy’s show of quick temper. “Adequate shelter brings out your spite?”

“No! Eminent death does!”

They glared at each other.

“We need to endeavor to make our best efforts to survive, Doctor.”

“Hope springs eternal, eh? Well, how do you propose doing this surviving?”

“We have found suitable shelter, so our next top priority will be to thrive until we are rescued.”

McCoy’s heart leaped with the prospects of living, but he was not about to let Spock know that. But he had hope now. Spock believed that they would live, so McCoy might as well, also.

“Rescued, eh? How do you figure that?”

“Jim and the others will realize that we were misdirected when we were beamed down and are even now determining how to rescue us. I propose that we sit down together in a confined space to conserve our body heat and to warm each other.”

“Snuggle?! You want to snuggle?! With me?!”

“Doctor,” Spock said in a tired voice. “It will not be snuggling. It will be mutual survival.”

“Call it what you will, it’s still snuggling,” McCoy muttered as he followed Spock to the floor of their cave that was little more than a grotto. 

Walking in the snow was one thing, sitting in it was quite another. Numbing cold shot up through McCoy's body from his anus. In fact, that orifice puckered in protest. Don't you start getting any ideas about defecating, McCoy ordered. What I said to the Vulcan applies to my hind end, too. Man, it's cold in this snow! One thing for damn sure, I'll never prescribe cold compresses to the anal region again without shivering, McCoy decided.

Snuggling with Spock hadn’t really been on McCoy’s bucket list. But since his prospects of checking off other items were rather limited now, maybe he should settle for anything that was available.

“Allow me, Doctor.” And without any more preamble than that, Spock pulled McCoy backwards between his legs. 

Well, now, McCoy had never even considered putting that item on any sort of bucket list. But he felt gratified. He bet that few people had ever been allowed between those two holy Vulcan shrines that now encased his body. And it was warmer.

McCoy leaned back against Spock’s chest as Spock’s arms encircled him. He relaxed for the first time since they had landed in this frozen hellhole. It did feel nice in Spock‘s arms. Of course, just getting out of the wind and off his feet felt nice, too.

“You know, Spock, when settlers in the Great Plains of North America got caught in a blizzard, they’d slaughter their horses, gut them, and climb into the bodies of the animals to keep from freezing to death,” McCoy reported almost nostalgically. He remembered how he’d felt when he first heard that story. How proud he’d been of his fellow country men’s ingenuity. Only later did he have any pity for the poor horses who had only wanted to survive the brutal prairie storms, too. And the animals probably wouldn’t have been out in the elements except for the stupidity of their human masters.

“Are you suggesting that we should slaughter our horses, Doctor? Our beasts of burden and our method of travel? Those horses?”

The bizarre questions made McCoy grin. The Vulcan had a sense of humor? McCoy hadn’t realized that.

“No, maybe we’d better hang onto them. After all, they’re packing all of our food and that hot coffee that smells so delicious. Besides, we might need the horses to get to the nearest outpost.”

“In which direction is that outpost, Doctor?”

“I don’t know,” McCoy said with his grin continuing. By all rights, he should be ranting his head off. But right now, everything that the Vulcan was saying was coming out funny, or was at least pleasing to hear.

McCoy glanced around. “We might as well stay in these digs for awhile.” He felt Spock’s arms tighten around him in agreement. “We don’t have anything better to do than to sit here and snuggle with each other.”

“It is not snuggling, Doctor,” Spock insisted at McCoy‘s ear. “We cannot feel each other through these heavy parkas.”

“You’re right,” McCoy smirked. “Just feels like iron bands around me. That‘s all. Not arms at all.” He glanced at Spock’s knees on either side of him. “Now I know what a four legged man looks like. Kinda strange looking. How could I ever control all of those legs at once?”

“I cannot see much of anything except the back of your hood where it is attached to your parka. Excuse me, Doctor. I need to warm my face.” 

And, as if he could do nothing else, Spock fumbled with McCoy’s parka and buried his face against the back of McCoy’s neck.

How could Spock be touching his bare flesh?! Then it dawned upon McCoy how Spock could.

There had been a sudden draft of cold air one moment before Spock’s face hit McCoy’s flesh. That should’ve been his first clue.

“Did you just unbutton my hood?!” McCoy demanded.

“I will keep your neck warm, also.”

McCoy felt hot and cold all over. Nobody, at least no man, had ever done something that intimate to him before. He squeezed his eyes shut as he could feel Spock’s face rubbing across the short hairs at the nape of his neck. How clean was McCoy’s hair after their grueling ordeal? At least they hadn’t been sweating. If they had, there would be tiny icicles hanging all over them by now.

McCoy grimaced again. Spock’s lips had nibbled at his flesh when he had talked. The sensation had sent chills racing all over McCoy’s body. It was not a bad feeling, not a bad feeling, at all.

“You, ah, finding a spot back there that you like?” McCoy inquired as he submitted to the gentle touches on the back of his neck. He could get used to that delicious nibbling, real easy.

“There is one spot that is warm now. Flesh against flesh is more warming for both of us. Blood excites blood.”

The damn Vulcan had that much right!

Could Spock explain, though, the other excitement that was beginning to tingle McCoy’s body in a very untimely way. Sexual awareness should be the last thing on McCoy’s agenda with their lives in danger, but damn it! Aware of the damn Vulcan he was! No matter if McCoy's asshole froze over, he knew he was going to be stirred because of the Vulcan's nearness. McCoy was in the arms of a very virile and desirable man and hoping that his asshole stayed operational and ice free.

Damn it! McCoy had to think about something else! The trouble was, what came out of his mouth still had sexual overtones. But it couldn’t be helped. The Vulcan had chosen the topic of conversation.

“Well, using that logic about warm naked flesh against warm naked flesh, Spock, we might as well just strip down right now and get all of our flesh touching every inch of us. Just huddle with one parka beneath us and one over us and rub all of our naked flesh together!” Damn those shivers of excitement!

“That well might come next, Doctor.”

Sexy thoughts were one thing. Action was another. And McCoy was appalled. The Vulcan had sounded serious.

“Over my dead body!”

“That is what I am trying to prevent.”

“By nibbling on my neck?!”

“Whatever works, I believe the expression is. Now snuggle back closer against my body so I can keep you warm.”

“See?! Even you are using the ‘snuggle’ word.”

“What is in a word, Doctor?” Spock asked as he pulled McCoy roughly against himself. “There. We will be warmer now.”

All that McCoy realized was that the Vulcan’s body was plastered all over his. What was even more disconcerting was that McCoy knew that only a few layers of material separated the crack of his ass from Spock’s penis.

What would it be like for that penis to slide into the crack of his ass?

No, McCoy, stop it! Stop thinking of having anal sex with the guy holding you so tightly in his arms!

Why should he even think about something like that?! Why should he even be aware of Spock’s penis?! The damn third foot of the Vulcan might freeze and snap off at any moment. And right now, they'd both cry over that loss. A patient's loss of his penis should be McCoy's only concern now. Not that penis’s proximity to his own anus.

Think about Hawaii, think about Hawaii. Not that damn green Vulcan and his tempting penis!

“You’re right,” McCoy said after a few moments of mind over matter. “I do feel like I’m in Hawaii.”

“Now you are going to be sarcastic?”

“No. Positive thinking. Just feel that sun, Spock! You might get a burn from it. Do you turn red when you burn, or a deeper shade of green?”

“I suppose that my burnt flesh would turn brown.”

“Well, that would be an agreeable color on you, that’s for sure. You might tan up real nice. You could have the ladies’ hearts all aflutter. Yes, sir, you‘ve missed your calling. You could‘ve been one helluva sexy cabana boy. You wouldn‘t have to work for the rest of your life. Just as long as you kept your teeth whitened and your luscious skin the color of medium browned toast and be willing to show it off in the boudoir, you wouldn't have to punch a time clock ever again. Just the beautiful ladies.”

Spock stiffened and stared at McCoy. “Doctor? Are you hallucinating?”


	5. The Power Of Positive Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock hits upon an ingenious plan for survival.

“No, I am not hallucinating!" McCoy snapped. "I’m being positive, remember? When I start hallucinating, I’ll be telling you about the cute polar bears out there or the sensuous Siamese dancing girls who really know how to captivate a fellah's eye. The polar bears have all of that warm fur to share. Hell, when you think about it, the dancing girls have fur that they'd probably like to share with us, also. There's more than one reason for those beckoning hands and knowing eyes.”

“Are they friendly, Dr. McCoy?” Spock asked with hesitation. “Are they gesturing to you? Do they wish you to accompany them?”

“Not yet. But they will,” McCoy assured him, suddenly happy. It all made so much sense now! This positive thinking certainly was powerful! He wondered if anyone had ever written a book about the unique subject.

Spock shook McCoy slightly. “You cannot answer their friendly gestures,” Spock said next to McCoy’s ear. His voice almost had fear in it. “You must ignore them.”

“Why the hell not?! They’ve got food for us! And water! And warmth! Those little Siamese dancing girls are downright steaming with heat and they want to share it with us. Right now that sounds like a pretty good deal that they're offering.”

Spock shook McCoy harder. “Stop it! You must not listen to them!”

“It’s my dream, damn it! A little harmless flirting never hurt anybody. Why not let me dream that dream with those sweet ladies?”

“Because you will not awaken from that dream. It is a sleep without end. You will not awaken from that dangerous dream.”

“What do you care?” McCoy slurred sleepily. “I’d be out of your hair for good then. Just let me rest for a little then, okay? If you will not let me go with the ladies, at least have the decency to allow me to sleep. I’ll get warm then. So now I think that I’ll grab some z’s. It’s real comfortable in your arms for sleeping. This cuddling was a wonderful idea, Spock. You would've made a wonderful mother.”

“I will not let you sleep, either.”

McCoy roused himself. “Boy, you’re one helluva killjoy today, do you know that?! Won’t let a guy do anything that he wants to do. What difference does it make to you, anyway?”

“I will not let you die, Doctor.”

“Damn stubborn bastard! You can’t stop me! If I can’t take it any longer, then I’m checking out. Got it?! My life, my decision. Besides, I can’t let you sacrifice yourself any longer. By yourself, you’ve got a chance. I‘m a burden to you. Save yourself. I give you my blessing. And I promise not to mess with your karma. I'll be the only one who will have to answer for not fighting harder to live," he muttered to himself. Then he rallied. "Besides, Jim can't lose both of us.”

“No, Doctor. I will not allow you to go.”

“No?! How in the hell do you propose to hang onto me?!”

“I will keep you here with me. Yes, that is what I will do," Spock muttered, desperately trying to form a plan. "I do not wish to be alone, and your loss would crush the captain." He seemed to make up his mind about something. "No, you will stay. I will not allow anything else.“

“You sound damn sure of yourself! What do you intend to do to keep me alive?”

“I intend to make you want to live,” Spock declared as his thoughts were jelling.

“And how do you propose to do that, hmm? Not even thoughts of Jim Kirk grieving over me will make me stay, and I love him like a brother! What can you do to top thoughts of Jim?! How can you make me want to live out here in this waste land?!”

“By making you fall in love with me,” Spock blurted rashly.

“In love?!” McCoy hooted. “With you?! How?!”

Instead of answering, Spock showed him. He pulled an amazed McCoy around in his arms and kissed him full on the lips.

And it was the damnedest experience McCoy had ever undergone. It was shocking and sweet and crude and desperate and so very, very satisfying. But thoroughly unexpected and left McCoy feeling as if all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

“What the hell?!” McCoy declared as he drew back, wild-eyed, and stared at Spock. “What do you think you are doing?!”

Spock‘s dark eyes swept over McCoy‘s startled countenance. A thousand generations of Vulcan intensity and determination stared out at McCoy. “I am creating a mystery in your mind. What does the Vulcan mean by kissing me? What is going on in the little bastard’s mind now?”

“Yeah! All that! Well?!”

“We should all have some mysteries in our minds, Doctor. I am now one in yours. You cannot be rid of me. Not now, not ever. I live in your mind now, as you live in mine. That is how I will control you.”

McCoy’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How are you gonna do all that?”

“I am your obsession now. You will live because I say so.”

“I’m not believing any of this damn sh--”

Spock pulled McCoy in for another hard kiss. This one was deeper and lasted longer. Then Spock changed the rules of the game. He let his lips soften and mold themselves around McCoy’s. That gentle pressure touched something deep inside McCoy. This kiss was genuine. Its giver truly cared for him. It was safe for McCoy to respond to the giver of the kiss. It was safe to return the caring that he felt from Spock.

McCoy began to whimper deep in his throat. The caring was going so deep, straight to his core, straight to his hungry heart. He had yearned for a genuine kiss for such a long time. How could he turn away from something that he wanted so much?

McCoy’s eyebrows met together as he opened his mouth to accept Spock’s searching tongue. That’s when McCoy learned that the little green bastard was an expert at French kissing, too.

Oh, hell, how long had he been neglecting such a nice commodity as this, McCoy wondered. And it had been right under his nose all this time and going to waste. Well, time to correct that error!

The growling in McCoy’s throat deepened in pitch as he gave in to primitive urges.

McCoy’s hands shot out, grabbed the back of Spock’s head, and pulled Spock tightly against him. They’d have to worry about Spock’s head and ears getting frostbitten later. Right now, they both had something else on their minds.

McCoy had never felt so warm. And wonderful. He wanted what came after this delicious kissing, but the threat of frostbite all over his naked body brought him to his senses. But only to break the kiss, not to break the spell of the kiss. McCoy wanted that magic to last forever.

“Oh, hell, oh, hell, oh, hell,” McCoy muttered as he messed with the strings of Spock’s parka. “Why did you do that to me? What does this all mean?”

“It means that you will live.” 

“But there has to be more. I want more!“

“You will live, and that will be enough,“ Spock said firmly as he roughly turned McCoy and pulled him tightly in his arms against his chest again.

McCoy’s eyes rolled wildly. What the hell?! Turn me on and cast me aside?! What the hell was that?! What kind of teasing bastard are you?!

But when McCoy spoke, he did not say any of those words. The Vulcan probably had moved on, anyway, too. If his last words indicated anything, he already had.

But McCoy had to say something, so he did.

“You’re gonna freeze your Vulcan ass off cradling me!”

“Then we will take turns. That way you will have another purpose to live. You must save me. Otherwise, my death will harm your karma.”

“You’d call me to task about that, too, wouldn’t you?”

“My vengeance knows no limits, Doctor.”

“Neither does your stubbornness. Okay, my turn to hold you.”

“It has not been but a few minutes--”

“That kissing has you more mixed up than you think. It’s been longer than a few minutes. Besides, you get colder quicker. You require more warmth. You like warmer conditions than us Earthlings, remember? I oughta know. I’ve been in that sweat bath that you call your quarters. It would make a great greenhouse.”

“I will turn it into one the moment we return to the Enterprise.”

McCoy frowned. The Vulcan was showing signs of hypothermia, especially the confusion.

“You wasted all that nice body heat when you kissed me. Parkas went every which way. Your points will fall off, and your ears will look like an Earthling‘s.”

“I was not the only one throwing clothing recklessly.”

He was right about that much. There had been a couple of moments of wild abandon from both of them.

“Well, whatever, you’re gonna take a turn getting warm. Besides, moving around will stir our blood. Now, haul ass!”

“Haul ass?”

“Trade places.” He was as rough as Spock had been with him. “There. See?” McCoy asked as he tightened his arms around the wiry little bastard. “Isn’t that cozy?”

Spock wouldn’t admit that he appreciated the new warmth, but he did. He sighed deeply and hoped that McCoy wouldn’t realize the amount of satisfaction that he was giving to Spock. It did feel nice to be the one protected and cradled, for a change.

“The energy I used to kiss you was not wasted, Doctor. It has rejuvenated you nicely.”

McCoy grinned, but there was no way that Spock could see it. Perhaps he heard it in McCoy’s voice, though. 

“Maybe it was an investment you made, then.”

“An investment?” Spock asked.

“In our future.”

“Anything is possible, Doctor.”

“I was kidding! Might I point out that our future might be less than an hour? Or a mere ten minutes? We’re turning into popsicles out here on this damn rock.”

“An hour is an hour, Doctor. Some people have less than that.”

“For what? It’s not like we’re working on our tans here.”

“We can talk about all sorts of things, thus keeping our brains active. Hearing is the last sense we lose.”

“So, if one of us checks out, his last memory will be the other one blathering away.” McCoy was liking this repartee. Hell, he realized, he was liking this little green bastard in his arms more and more. He had spunk. And grit.

And, he was a helluva good kisser!


	6. How Long Has This Been Going On?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his initial surprise, McCoy becomes an advocate of Spock's plan, but it doesn't last long.

“It is time to switch, Doctor.”

“The way I see it, we have a division of labor here. You do the kissing, I’ll do the cuddling. It’s a pretty good arrangement, the way I see it.”

“We need to switch now. You are beginning to repeat yourself. You need to concentrate more on what is going on.”

Startled, McCoy blinked. Then he shrugged and gave Spock a sensuous, languid look. “Okay. Just remember that you said it.”

“What? That it was time to switch?”

“No, about the division of labor. You said that it was time to switch now.” 

Spock gave McCoy a look that as much asked, ‘So?’

Now who was having trouble concentrating, McCoy wondered. The Vulcan needed to keep his own house in order instead of criticizing the next guy. That opinion made McCoy feel smug. The damn Vulcan wasn't so high and mighty, after all! He had feet of clay as much as anybody!

But McCoy decided not to confront Spock with his new found knowledge and deductions. McCoy would just let it be his own secret. But it made him feel that he had an advantage over Spock. And what made it all so much more wonderful was that the Vulcan didn't realize it. That oughta prove that Spock wasn't always the superior one on the scene!

McCoy gave Spock a lazy grin back. “So, that means that I’ll do the kissing from now on, and you’ll do the cuddling. Right? But, of course, it’ll be more pleasurable if we’re both doing the kissing and the cuddling.”

“I meant that it was time to switch places and let me hold you. You are beginning to show signs of hypothermia, Doctor.”

“Hell, it’s the opposite! I’m showing signs of being overheated! Hyperthermia, that’s what I’ve got! And you caused it!”

“Doctor, we need to concentrate on our survival.”

“What happened to your damn distraction theory? It’s working just fine now. I‘m distracted as hell. By pointed ears.” He gave Spock a stripping glance. “By brooding eyes and gorgeous lips and the damnedest skin I’ve wanted to wallow against since I don’t know when. By the whole damn package that you‘re packing around, for that matter! I just didn’t realize it until now.”

“Doctor, you need immediate help. You are hallucinating badly. Let me hold you and keep you warm.”

“Gladly!” Squirming with pleasure to be so close to all of that sexy Vulcan love machine again, McCoy burrowed happily into Spock’s chest. “See?! You can’t tell me that you’re not feeling something besides cold! You’re aware of me, alright! You’re damn well aware of me, and don’t you go trying to deny it!”

“Of course, I am aware of you. You are yelling at me. And I am holding you and trying to keep you under control. It is not an easy thing to do.”

“That’s because I have a knot-headed Vulcan who isn’t listening to logic! We’ve stirred up something, Spock! We’re aware of each other now! Surely, you can’t deny that! If you do, you are a liar!”

“Doctor. Please,” Spock begged as he struggled with McCoy and with himself. “I cannot lie.”

“Well, you are now! Lying to me is bad enough! But you’re lying to yourself! Why do you think that second kiss got so hot?! There’s a reason for it, Spock! It’s called biology! If you don’t believe in religion, you’ve got to believe in science! You can’t deny what’s going on with us! You can‘t deny the truth of that kiss!”

“I… must.”

McCoy stopped struggling. “What? What must you do?”

“I must deny it.”

McCoy frowned. “Deny it?! Why?”

“I have to be true to myself. I cannot give in to base emotion.”

“It’s the building block of the universe. It's the reason why life can go on. It IS life. And it is not base. It is pure. And true. And wonderful. Oh, so, very, very, wonderful.”

“I cannot, I cannot.”

But McCoy persisted. “Spock, I think we should explore our feelings.”

“No, no.”

“What do you say to trying the kissing again? We’ll see what your body tells you then. We‘ll see then if you‘re indifferent to me.”

Spock looked hard at him and seemed to be trying to learn the truth from him.

“Trust me, Spock. I’ll be good to you. I just want to love you, for however long we've got to live. Can that be so bad?”

Spock looked indecisive and began to relent. Spock’s eyes did not look so sure about what he had always believed. The hard restrictions that he had always placed on himself were beginning to loosen. McCoy grew excited about the metamorphosis that he was being privileged to watch. Any moment now, Spock would relent. Any moment now, Spock would be his. But it would be a wrenching struggle for the principled Vulcan who had always held himself so tightly in.

McCoy knew, though, that other factors were working in Spock, not just his logic and his mind. Other areas of Spock’s body were being heard from. Other areas a long ways further south of his dark, brooding eyes. And that might be to McCoy's advantage.

Old Man Biology was alive and well in Spock, after all. That meant that before long now, he and McCoy were both in for one helluva ride. Because Spock, so long suppressed by his own willpower, was going to explode with sexual need when he finally declared that it was the emancipation day for his own body. And McCoy was going to be the happy recipient of all of that pent up gusto and sexual fervor. 

McCoy saw that he had persuaded Spock and that Spock was his. Spock was on the verge of leaning forward to surrender himself to McCoy’s arms. For however long they were allotted of life, at least they could spend it together. It would be a golden time, though probably short-lived. McCoy would worry about that in its proper time. Now, he was going to live in the moment and celebrate a lifetime of lovemaking in a few glorious minutes. And then they’d go to sleep, to lie forever in love’s final embrace. 

At least they could die happily in each others arms. 

It would be enough. As Spock would say, some people are not allotted even that much of life. A moment of fulfillment was better than no moment, at all, McCoy supposed.

“Let me hold you, Spock,” McCoy urged softly.

Still, Spock would not give that final, physical surrender. “No.”

“I will be good to you,” McCoy promised as he lunged for Spock.

“No!” Spock roared, startled by McCoy impatient grab.

At that moment, though, they both began to shimmer.

“What?! What the hell?!” McCoy yelled as he fell forward into Spock’s fighting arms. “Jim Kirk, you have terrible timing!”

And with that, McCoy and Spock disintegrated from the ice planet to reappear in the warmth of the Enterprise and the company of their jubilant friends. 

It was almost as big a shock to McCoy and Spock as their original births had been into the world of the living. The light and the heat and the noise were overwhelming, and they blinked at their sudden change of environment. They were left completely disoriented and lost their balances.

“Spock! Bones! You’re back!” Kirk crowed as the frosty explorers fell tumbling onto the transporter pads.

McCoy sat up, looked around, and grinned. Just like that, he was a changed man. “This is more like it! Home, sweet home! Enterprise, I’ve never been happier to see you, you rusty, old bag of bolts!”

“Are you okay?” Kirk demanded as he and Scotty rushed forward to help the cold men to their feet. “Save your love songs for the Enterprise until later, Bones.”

“I’ve been warmer, but I’ll be okay. Just need to thaw out some.”

“You’re colder than hell, Bones,” Kirk said as he helped strip the icy parka off McCoy.

“There’s a reason for that.” McCoy’s grin spread wider. Thoughts of the perils of the ice planet and the joys he was only a moment before seeking in Spock’s arms vanished as he once more became the CMO of the Starship Enterprise. 

His next thoughts were of his patient. “Spock,” McCoy said as he turned to his travel companion who was getting help from Scotty to strip off his own parka. “You need some time in a warm bed to thaw out completely. And plenty of fluids to curb dehydration.”

“That’s probably a good prescription for both of you,” Kirk said, grinning with relief. “You both look pretty rough, but you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“It is pretty bright in here,” McCoy agreed, looking around. “My eyes will take some adjusting. We were in a world of gray and white just a few moments ago. It’ll take awhile to get used to color again, but I’m going to embrace it,” he said happily.

“I think that a lot of your body will take some time adjusting to normal life again. I’m just glad you’re back.”

“Me, too, Jim.” McCoy could barely stop his grinning. “It was hell down there.”

“Aye, it’s good to be seeing both of you lads back with us,” Scotty joined in with obvious relief. It was his miscalculation that had sent McCoy and Spock hurtling into a frozen grave.

“Scotty, my man,” McCoy said, turning to him. “You shot us the wrong direction. Bad aiming, my friend.” McCoy was amazed at his own jovial attitude. By all rights, he should be ranting at Kirk and Scotty or trying to get Spock interested in him again. At the moment, though, he was just so damn happy to get off that ice planet that he was feeling positively droll. Everything else was forgotten. Anger. Lust. Everything dimmed in the happiness of being granted a new lease on life.

“Aye, sorry about that, Doctor. There was a glitch. I don’t know what went wrong.”

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna be one of those glitches in the transporter system that will be the death of me yet. I just have a feeling about that.” He slapped Scotty’s arm. “But, happily, not today. You got us back, Scotty! Thanks!”

“I had you honed in, then at the last moment you started to moving around something fierce. I almost lost you again.”

“Oh. That,” McCoy mumbled, remembering his dive for Spock. They couldn’t be thinking about that now. It already seemed like something that had happened in a dim and distant past, not just moments ago. But it could not be forgotten. Emotions had been stirred. Things had been said. Hearts had been exposed. That could not be ignored. But it could be shelved for a more convenient time, and McCoy was going to make certain that that time rolled around very quickly. He had all sorts of plans for Spock and his magnificent body.

“Well, it’s about time that you two got some ‘r and r’ from your ‘r and r,’” Kirk quipped.

McCoy brought himself back from what he’d been thinking about Spock. “And I’m in dire need of it! Oh, by the way, if it’s all the same to you, Jim, the next time that shore leave comes up for me, I’ll just stay on the Enterprise, if that's alright with you.”

Kirk grinned at his friend. “That attitude would be understandable, after your present experience, I expect.” Kirk turned. “Mr. Spock, you’ve been awfully quiet about your harrowing adventure. Do you have anything to add? Did you experience anything revolutionary down in that cold, cruel world?”

Spock shot an unguarded look at McCoy, then looked away. “I do not wish to discuss it at this time, if you do not mind, please, Captain.”

Kirk, not comprehending what was the matter, gave McCoy a questioning look.

“It was pretty rough down there, Jim. For both of us. You’re right. We both need some rest. I think that it’s catching up with us.”

“I had no idea. I wouldn’t have been so flippant if I’d only known.”

“It’s okay, Jim.” McCoy glanced at Spock. “We’ll be okay, won’t we, Spock? We just need some time to think things through, don’t we?”

Spock’s eyes snapped at McCoy.

“And to accept,” McCoy finished firmly.

And with that, Spock whipped out the door of the transporter room.

“Spock--”

McCoy caught his arm. “It’s okay, Jim. Let him rest. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, you’re his doctor….” Kirk let it trail away.

“He’ll be alight, Jim. We both will.” McCoy straightened. “In the meantime, I’m gonna go thaw out someplace.” He gave Kirk a weak, but warm smile. “Wanna help me take the level down on a bottle of bourbon that’s calling my name? I’ll even believe all of the stories about feminine conquests that you’ve made.”

Kirk grinned and followed the thawing man out of the transporter room. It was good to have his missing friends home again.


	7. What In The Hell Is Going On?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning to the Enterprise, Spock acts more distant than ever with McCoy.

The next day, Jim Kirk looked up in surprise when the turbo lift door opened and Leonard McCoy walked onto the bridge of the Enterprise. McCoy was dressed in his blue uniform as if he was ready to go on duty and had just stopped by for a moment to chat.

“Bones? Are you able to be back on duty already?”

“I’ve had about enough rest to last me for awhile. The bed’s hurting my body.”

Kirk grinned. “Well, yeah, sounds like you’re due for a change then. Did you finally get warmed up?”

“Yeah. It took awhile, though. What about the Vulcan? How’s he doing?”

“Ask him yourself.” Kirk turned to his right with a languid grin. “Mr. Spock is right over here.”

McCoy jerked in surprise when he saw Spock at his usual post.

“If we could disturb you for a moment, Mr. Spock, your doctor is wondering how you are faring from your recent ordeal on the ice planet.”

“I’ll be damn,” McCoy breathed in surprise. “He’s back on duty?” he mumbled to Kirk. “I figured that he’d be thawing out for a week or so in some oven somewhere. And we wouldn’t know if he was thoroughly frost-free until we could smell roasting meat.”

Spock turned from his scanners with a condescending look on his face. “I heard that remark, Dr. McCoy,” he said rather bored. “And I am happy to relate that I did not have to undergo any such drastic treatment as you are now proposing. A few hours of sleep in my warm quarters and the intake of sufficient liquids to replace the loss of fluids in my body have done quite a lot in restoring me to my formal efficiency.” He gave McCoy a hard look. “I am happy to report also that my behavior has now been restored to normal, after my rather questionable performance on the alien planet.”

McCoy frowned. “Lack of fluids? Do you believe that cold, tiredness, and dehydration accounts for the way that you were behaving?”

“That is what I am saying, Doctor,” Spock replied stubbornly.

“Why, of all the--”

“What way were you acting?” Kirk asked, puzzled, looking from one to the other.

“Ah, nothing, Jim,” McCoy answered, catching himself. “Perhaps Spock was right, after all. Dehydration does cause all sorts of adverse physical reactions.”

“Adverse physical reactions?” Kirk echoed. “Would you like to elaborate, Doctor?”

McCoy glanced around at the other sets of ears that were idly half listening to the conversation that was taking place between the three top officers. “No, not at this time, Captain.”

“Perhaps later, in my quarters, then, Doctor?” Kirk offered.

Before McCoy could answer, Spock spoke up. “I believe that has all been covered sufficiently in our reports, Captain.”

McCoy blinked. Had Spock related their private conversation in a report?! Had he covered the kissing?! The emotions that were stirred and then denied?! The frustration from that denial that was now bothering McCoy more than the physical cold of the ice planet?!

Spock glanced at McCoy as he approached Kirk. That look cautioned McCoy to be silent as clearly as if Spock had spoken.

“I expect that Dr. McCoy also related in his report that he and I both experienced hallucinations on the ice planet due to dehydration.”

“Well, yes, he did,” Kirk conceded as he glanced up at McCoy with bemusement. “Polar bears, I believe. And Siamese dancing girls.”

McCoy rolled his eyes upwards and breathed deeply. The damn Vulcan didn’t have to be so specific with his details!

“Yes, Captain. There were mention of those while we were marooned on the planet.”

“But neither one of you actually, ah, ‘saw’ these polar bears or Siamese dancing girls, did you?”

“No, Captain, we did not.” 

“Bones?”

Again, Spock shot McCoy a look that clearly demanded compliance.

“What Spock said,” McCoy answered without actually agreeing.

Kirk, though, took McCoy’s answer as agreement.

“Well, then, gentlemen, I suggest that we get on with our work,” Kirk said in dismissal.

“Yes, Captain,” Spock answered but he was looking at McCoy with that hard look again.

“Yes, Captain,” McCoy muttered and left the bridge, feeling dismissed by not one, but both of his immediate superiors.

 

“What the hell was that?!” McCoy demanded the first chance he got to grab Spock’s arm and pull Spock into a quiet corner. 

In this case, it was the recreation room. A quartet of young female yeomen were drinking soft drinks and chattering in a far corner, so Spock and McCoy were in public yet withdrawn, also.

“I do not know to what you are referring,” Spock replied frostily, then looked pointedly down at his arm that McCoy gripped.

McCoy released his arm. “You know exactly what I mean, so stop denying it! All that double talk to Jim on the bridge about dehydration causing a reaction down on that ice planet when you know damn well that it was you kissing me that got things stirred up!”

Spock glanced at the young women talking and laughing among themselves. A couple of them had glanced at the quarreling men, but only casually.

“This is too public.”

“Wanna go to my quarters then? Maybe then we can pick up where we left off down on that planet, too.”

Spock’s head snapped around. “What happened down there is to be forgotten!” he snarled.

“How? How am I supposed to forget that?! You started something, Vulcan! I want us to finish it!”

Spock turned away. “It is finished.”

“What are you saying?!” McCoy demanded in disbelief.

"I was physically and emotionally compromised. So were you."

"I was physically and emotionally stirred!" McCoy snapped back.

A couple of the yeomen definitely glanced toward them.

“Let us step into the hallway, Doctor,” Spock said as he headed for the door of the rec room.

“Yeah, good choice. That’s about as cozy as Grand Central Station,” McCoy muttered as he followed Spock out the door.

The hallway was remarkably vacant for a change.

McCoy glimpsed around. “Yeah, you’re right. Real cozy. Just like being in Aunt Tillie’s parlor back in Macon. I think that the chintz curtains and flowered doilies give it a real homey feel, don’t you?”

“Doctor, sometimes I do not appreciate your sarcasm.”

“Only sometimes?” McCoy shot back. “And I thought that it was me in general that you disapproved of and not just my sarcasm.”

Spock sighed deeply in exasperation. “What is your problem, Doctor? Why are you acting more juvenile than those young female yeomen back in the recreation room?”

McCoy studied Spock with a frown. “You really know how to cut a guy down, don’t you? Do you practice that a lot, or were you born with that gift?”

“Doctor, what is the point of your present tirade?”

“You! You big lummox, you!”

“I fail to understand any more than when I posed my question. You may have thought that you were giving a clear and concise answer just now, but you were laboring under a delusion.”

“Oh, I see that I am going to have to spell it all out to you as usual, I suppose.”

“Spelling everything out is not necessary. Simply say the words. In fact, that would speed the process along. Otherwise, you might run your spelling of the words together. Then, too, you might get stymied by the correct spelling of some word and lose the thread of what you were trying to spell while you searched around for some synonym that would convey the same meaning.”

McCoy squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “What in blue blazing hell are you talking about?!”

“You said it, Doctor. You thought that you would have to spell it all out to me.”

“Give me strength,” McCoy begged of any listening deity that wasn’t laughing its head off. The Vulcan was having trouble with idioms again. At a time like this, no less!

“How can I give you strength, Doctor?”

“Not you.”

“Then who?” Spock asked, truly puzzled.

“Never mind. Look, down on that ice planet, something happened to us.”

“We got very cold.”

“Besides that.”

“We got diverted to the wrong destination.”

“Besides that. Spock! Something PHYSICAL happened to us.” He saw Spock open his mouth. “Before you say it, I don’t mean the cold. Spock, do you remember what we did because we were cold and tired and dehydrated?”

“We sat down in a small cave and snuggled.”

“Yes! And I got discouraged and wanted to die. You knew it before I did, and you endeavored to make me stay alive. Do you remember how you decided to give me the will to live?”

Spock frowned. It was obvious that he remembered, although he was not going to dignify it by mentioning it. “The time of emergency is over. What I did no longer applies.”

“Yes, it does, you green blooded idiot! You decided to make me fall in love with you! Well, it worked! I’m in love with you!”

“Doctor, you are not.”

“Don’t you try telling me what I am or am not! Well, if it isn’t love, then it’s lust! Either way, I want you! In my bed, or here in this hallway! Get naked with me now, and let’s finish what we started back on that ice planet! We don't have to worry about frostbite now." McCoy frowned. "Maybe heat prostration if we go to that sweat bath that you call your quarters. But at least it would be a change from that ice planet. Down there, you might've gotten your dingly dangly frozen off before you'd gotten a chance to use it on me.”

Spock looked around. “Doctor. I must caution you. This hallway is very public. You might as well be announcing all of this on the ship-wide communication system.”

“Gladly! If it would wake you up to what you started, hand me the microphone!”

“I started nothing. It is over, just as this conversation is.” 

Spock started to move away, but McCoy grabbed his arm.

“It is not! You said that I cannot be rid of you! You said that you live in my mind, just as I live in yours! Spock! That’s a helluva commitment! It’s something that neither of us can walk away from! We’re connected now!”

“You are mistaken, Doctor. It was a ruse, a diversion, to keep you from thinking that you would die. Now let me pass.”

McCoy released Spock’s arm. “You’re in denial, Spock. Mark my words. This isn’t over. You have to admit what you felt for me. You can’t keep this bottled up inside you. If you keep denying this feeling you have for me, it’ll find a way to express itself. And it might not be very nice or satisfying for either one of us.”

Spock gave McCoy an icy look. “You are mistaken, Doctor. It is over because it never started.” His left eyebrow inched upwards slightly. “And there is nothing inside me.” He walked away.

“If you’re meaning your heart, you’re damn right about that,” McCoy muttered to Spock’s disappearing form. “I think that you left that down on that ice planet. It might've been better if we'd never been rescued from there. At least we'd be together.” He reconsidered. "Dead. But together."


	8. Intrigue Is Exciting, But It's Time To Come Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk confesses something, then wants some answers of his own.

“If you would excuse me, Captain, I must get back to my duties.”

“But you’ve barely touched your food,” Kirk objected.

Spock’s eyes flicked imperceptibly toward McCoy who sat beside Kirk at the mess hall table. “The laboratory is free now. And I wish to finish my experiment,” Spock mumbled as he jumped to his feet, grabbed his tray of half-eaten food, and fled the mess hall.

“Well, what the hell was that all about?” Kirk asked as he watched his First Officer scurry away.

McCoy grunted a nonverbal answer as he stared down at his own uneaten food.

Kirk frowned at McCoy’s plate of well stirred food. “Whatever is wrong with him seems to be catching. What you two consumed together wouldn’t be enough to satisfy me at a meal. It wouldn't even make a decent snack for me.”

“What a battalion consumes in a day wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you for one meal!” McCoy snapped.

Kirk looked genuinely hurt.

McCoy was repentant when he saw Kirk’s face. “Jim, I, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that remark. A battalion’s breakfast would probably satisfy you,” he finished lamely with a gentle smile, hoping to heal with humor and to rectify his sharp, unkind words.

Kirk’s own soft smile showed that he had forgiven his friend’s incautious tongue as readily as a dog would readily forgive an unwarrated blow from the hand of a beloved master.

“I love you, Bones. Unconditionally. Despite your sharp tongue.”

“Damn it! Don’t be so gracious with your forgiveness! Don’t make me feel guilty, too!”

“What else are you feeling, Bones? What else is boiling inside that McCoy volcano?”

“Frustrated. Anger. Hurt.” McCoy was surprised that he could name them so easily. “Frustrated, mainly,” he admitted honestly.

“And it’s all leveled at Spock, isn’t it?” Kirk asked gently.

McCoy sucked in his breath sharply, but didn’t answer.

“You know that I’d like it if you two got along better with each other.”

“I know.”

“That’s why I sent you two on that ‘vacation’ together.”

McCoy guffawed. “Some vacation! The outer reaches of a frozen hell is where we landed! Scotty sure messed up on that one!”

“It wasn’t Scotty.”

“Hmm?”

“And he didn’t mess up. I overrode the system.”

McCoy looked thoroughly stunned.

“I really have to apologize to him sometime about that.”

"Scotty?! I don't remember him being on that ice planet with us!"

"You and Spock then, too."

"That's better." Then the real point of Kirk's confession struck McCoy. “You sabotaged our transportation?!”

“Well, I don’t know if ‘sabotaged’ is the right word--”

“Were you crazy?! We could have died!”

“You were being monitored the whole time. You were never in danger. I had a handle on it." Kirk frowned. "Well, most of the time,” he finally admitted.

“But we didn’t know that! We thought we were in our final moments!”

“I wanted you to learn to pull together, to be a team, to rely on each other, to come up with any means to keep the other one from dying.”

McCoy thought about the means that Spock had used to keep him alive. McCoy had a sudden thought. The little green bastard must’ve been at his wit’s end to have risked his own emotions so recklessly in order to save McCoy. Spock really must have been extending himself.

Kirk mistook McCoy’s silence for anger. “I’m sorry, Bones. I was only trying to help bring you two together.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” McCoy mumbled absently. “I understand.”

McCoy was still thinking through his and Spock’s situation on the ice planet and was only half aware of Kirk’s plight with his conscience. Kirk must be some sort of genius to have pulled all that off, McCoy decided. If it was true that Kirk was monitoring him and Spock the whole time, then Kirk's methods really needed to be studied and reproduced. Especially if Scotty hadn't been aware of Kirk's manipulations, because Scotty was a genius in his own right.

Or Kirk might be bluffing now. He might've just gotten lucky again.

Whatever, Kirk had managed to pull off the ruse. McCoy should be happy for that much.

Then McCoy noticed the contrite look still on Kirk’s face. The guy was genuinely sorry for what he’d done and must now be thinking that McCoy was giving him the silent treatment.

McCoy tabled his thoughts about Spock to bolster the feelings of their mutual friend. “Jim,” McCoy said softly with his full concentration on Kirk. “I know your heart was in the right place. You wanted Spock and me to bond, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Kirk answered, grateful for McCoy’s understanding. “You’re both such great guys. I wanted you to feel for each other what I feel for each of you. I wanted you to be friends. I wanted you to have special feelings for each other.”

If you only knew! McCoy thought. We’ve gone way past what you feel for each of us. We’re in a foreign country that you never considered in your relationships with us.

“It’s just us, Jim. You didn’t fail us; we failed you.”

Kirk let his breath out gratefully. “Thanks, Bones.”

“So you overrode the transportation system, eh?”

“Yeah,” Kirk admitted sheepishly.

“What doesn’t help is having a captain who is smarter than he oughta be! Sabotaging the system!”

“Oh, I’m not that smart.”

“You beat the Vulcan at 3-D chess consistently.”

“Well--” Kirk tried to downplay his skill.

“Don’t denigrate yourself! You were probably solving math equations before you were potty trained!”

“Well, I did drive my mother crazy about computers. If the computer can do this, I'd ask, then why can’t it do that? That sort of thing.”

“Yeah, that makes sense, alright. Let's just forget about it, okay? You finish your lunch, and I’ll finish mine. That'll make us both healthier.”

“I’m glad that you forgave me, Bones.”

“Shut up and get your food eaten before I think you’re sick and order you to undergo a whole battery of tests! You might even have to stay in sickbay overnight. In quarantine. No visitors.”

“I’m eating! I’m eating!” Kirk declared as he shoveled in potatoes and gravy. “This is the first time you’ve ever ordered me to eat. Generally, you want me to diet.”

“Generally I’m not trying to stop you from apologizing.”

Kirk put down his fork. “Bones, I am sorry. Really, I am.”

“I know! Eat!”

But Kirk remained contrite.

McCoy put down his fork, also. “Look, Jim, you can only hurt someone if they love you. I know you love me. I know we’re going to work on that love so it won’t ever go away. Okay?”

“Thanks, Bones. I needed to hear that. I've felt kinda guilty.”

“Well, forget it now, will you? Now, eat! Before I have to get a battalion of yeomen in here to clean up your plate!”

Kirk’s eyes shone with humor and comradeship. McCoy tried to return that glow of friendship to Kirk, but his relationship with Spock made him feel cold inside.

 

But the secrets that seemed to be flowing around Spock and McCoy did not abate. Neither did the tension. In fact, matters seemed to get worse with McCoy looking pale and sleepless. Then McCoy appeared to be suffering from some new mysterious physical malady. He looked and acted as if he was in pain. Kirk did not like the situation. He did not like the situation, at all. He had had just about enough, and he finally stormed into McCoy’s quarters to confront him.

“Out awfully late, aren’t you, Jim?” McCoy asked as he watched Kirk pacing around his room.

“Alright, Bones, I know there’s a problem with you, and I know you’ve been consulting a doctor.”

McCoy’s demeanor instantly changed to anger. “Has M’Benga--”

“He hemmed and hawed and wouldn’t tell me a thing,” Kirk said with obvious frustration. “And that’s not fair to him. He didn’t want to break patient confidentiality, but he was facing his commanding officer. I’m your commanding officer, too, Bones, and your friend. I’m about tired of this strange cat and mouse game that you and Spock seem to be playing with each other. I want some answers, and I want them straight, and I want them now.”

McCoy deflated during Kirk’s speech. “Are you ordering me to talk?”

“I don’t want to.” Kirk looked exasperated. “Come on, Bones. Can’t you tell me? I know that there’s something wrong with you. And I know that it involves Spock.”

McCoy’s eyes snapped up. “What has he said?”

“Nothing. I didn’t know how to approach him. Hell, I seldom see him anymore, except on duty. Then it’s all correct answers and efficient work skills from him.”

“Sounds like the perfect employee,” McCoy muttered.

“Damn it, Bones, if I’d wanted a robot for First Officer, I’d gotten a robot! The way it is now, Spock shuffles in like a clam and moves around like a shadow. He’s never at meals. The rare times he is, you are missing. And he doesn’t talk! Well, he answers questions, but that’s it. Damn it, Bones! I enjoy the company of both of you. At the same time, sitting side by side across from me. Or standing elbow to elbow in front of me. Always together. Discussing. Evaluating. Communicating! I miss that, Bones. I miss your repartee with each other. The, ah, bickering between you two can be quite entertaining and relaxing for me. Now, I know that something is going on. What? That’s what I want to know. Did something happen between you two down on that ice planet?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me what?”

McCoy shook his head. “I’d rather not. Not right now.”

“Okay, we’ll shelve it for now. But this thing, or series of things, that happened didn’t get resolved down there. Right?”

McCoy finally nodded.

“And now there’s repercussions.”

McCoy nodded.

“Repercussions that you can’t control.”

McCoy breathed deeply and turned away.

“Can you tell me about it, Bones?”

McCoy was quiet for a long time, and Kirk thought that he wasn’t going to answer.

"He comes to me," McCoy finally said.

"Hmm?" What an odd choice of words, Kirk thought.

McCoy bit lips together and frowned. "He comes to me. In the night."

And just by the way that McCoy was describing his experience gave Kirk a thrill of horror and of something forbidden.

"What do you mean by saying that he comes to you?"

"He comes to me in the night and has his way with me."

"What do you mean?" Kirk asked hollowly, dumbly, not really wanting to hear the answer but compelled to listen to every sordid detail.

"He rapes me. Repeatedly."

"Bones--" Kirk gasped.

"There is no softness or gentleness about him. It's animal release and nothing else. He's on automatic pilot."

"Oh, hell," Kirk mumbled with all of the horror he was feeling echoing in his voice.

"Yeah. Oh, hell. And it hurts, Jim. It hurts so bad. In my anal canal and in my heart. And it's hurting him, too. But he can't stop. He's obsessed."

"How did this all get started? Does it stem from something that happened down on that ice planet?"

McCoy frowned as he nodded. "I think so. I expect dehydration and exposure did cause some of the problems. Anyway, I was tired and cold down there and pissed off in general. Then I started talking crazy about checking out. It must've scared Spock because he decided to give me a reason to live. That started it, I suppose."

"And he did this? How?"

"By giving me a reason to live."

"And how did he do that?"

"By kissing me."

Kirk's eyes popped. "Wow!"

"Yeah. Wow. Anyway, I asked him why he'd done that, and he said that now I couldn't get rid of him. He said that he lived in my mind, the same as I lived in his. He said that was how he'd control me. I'd live because he said that I would. Then we got rescued and we came back here to resume our normal lives." McCoy frowned. "Except we really haven't resumed our normal lives. I tried to corner him about what he'd stirred up in both of us back on that planet, but he wanted to forget that it'd ever happened. And then this other stuff started happening."

"And there's no way you can defend yourself?"

"I go numb, Jim, like I can't move. I've read up on this shit. It's like Spock is an incubus and I've got sleep paralysis. He can do what he wants with me, and I can't stop him. Besides, part of me welcomes him. He stirred up a need in me that I can't shake. But the attention that I'm getting from him is going to kill me."

"You need to get transferred out of here as soon as possible!"

"It won't do any good. There's nowhere in the universe that he can't reach me. It's mental as well as physical. I know that he isn't actually there. I know that he's asleep in his own bed. But I'll tell you one thing. That intercourse hurts as much as the real thing would. And M'Benga found the evidence on my anal wall."

Kirk uttered an expletive, as much out of frustration as out of disgust.

"Through it all, though, I'm worried about him, Jim. I want to help, but you've seen how unapproachable he is. He's probably doing his best to suppress his urges, but it's still coming out in him. He might be able to control his emotions while he's awake. But at night, when he's asleep, he comes looking for me. And he finds me."

"Oh, hell, Bones, we'll get something figured out. Just be careful in the meanwhile."

McCoy smirked. "Funny. That's the only advice that M'Benga could give me, too. Be careful."


	9. The Man In The Shadowy Corner Of The Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all urges can be suppressed, not even by a determined Vulcan.

McCoy couldn’t say for sure when it had started. He was just aware that he couldn’t get to sleep, that he was restive, that he was uncomfortable, and he didn't know why. He pitched and rolled on his narrow bed. He lay on his back in exasperation. He cursed the gods of the universe. He cursed himself for sealing himself up in this damn tinned can and for allowing himself to be shot out of Earth’s gravitational pull like so much space junk that had to be shed from the sight and life of decent Earthlings. It wasn't natural for mankind to live for months sealed up in a metal canister. If his creator had intended that, then McCoy's mother would've been a thermos jug.

The concept of being in space was bad enough, but that wasn’t the cause of his present sleeplessness. It was the damn Vulcan and what he was doing! Or not doing, to be more precise. Spock didn’t want to explore the feelings he had stirred in the both of them down on that ice planet. He said it was over. Finished. Kaput.

Well, it sure as hell wasn’t finished for Leonard McCoy! What kind of cock tease was Spock, after all?! Didn’t the Vulcan understand that you didn’t turn love on and off like a television?! Whenever you do something, no matter how small, you unleash a wave in the universe. And that wave continues, whether you declare it ceased or not. Surely, Spock had heard about the Butterfly Effect! And if that didn’t exist, there was still all that shit about karma! You just didn’t go messing with stuff like that lightly! Who knew what kind of hellish trouble you would cause for yourself down the road?! There were all kinds of laws and balances that shouldn’t be disturbed for one good reason. Shit happens. And it gets all over people. Didn’t the damn Vulcan understand any of that?! Didn't Spock know that not everything can be undone simply by refusing to believe in its existence anymore?!

And you didn’t go messing with someone’s heartstrings the way Spock had messed with McCoy’s. You didn’t make someone fall in love with you and then walk away at the first opportunity, say when the eminent danger was past. You owed each other something. And that debt had to be paid. Or bad stuff happens.

Cause and effect. Add that to the butterfly effect and the hard, unforgiving balls of karma. Did the damn Vulcan know what he was messing with?! Didn’t he understanding that debts had to be paid?! One way or another, balances had to be reached and maintained. Basic stuff in the universe gets pissed off, otherwise.

McCoy finally drifted off to an exhausted sleep while both wanting the Vulcan’s body to love and to beat the shit out of it for his neglect. McCoy’s last conscious thought was that Spock would attend to his obligations after he was rested and ready to face McCoy again. On that last shred of optimistic hope, McCoy finally surrendered to sleep. Hope springs eternal, even when there isn't much promise for it.

 

McCoy was wrong about Spock and his relating to McCoy. And with each passing day, Spock only got worse. McCoy began to wonder if he had suddenly become invisible because of the way that Spock seemed to look through him. But other people seemed to be able to see McCoy just fine. In fact, a few of them even acted annoyed because McCoy tried to act invisible. It was as if McCoy was trying to prove the adage that we eventually begin to act the way we are treated. And Spock was treating the poor doctor pretty shabbily.

 

McCoy awoke one night and sensed that something was different in the feel about his quarters. Of course, he had gone to sleep thinking about Spock again and wondering why Spock was treating him so harshly. In fact, he had actually gone to sleep calling for Spock to come to him. McCoy ached that much for unrequited love. But Spock would probably ignore that call again.

And now it seemed that Spock had answered that call. In the dim shadows across the room McCoy could almost see a shape standing and looking at him. And it was Spock, or what looked like Spock. But he seemed different somehow. He was shirtless and was dressed only in light gray colored sweatpants. What a strange outfit, McCoy thought. He’d never seen Spock attired that way. It certainly set off the Vulcan’s broad shoulders and muscular diaphragm, though. Was Spock really that buff? His chest seemed more massive somehow, as if he had been working out. It was almost out of proportion. But McCoy couldn't dwell on the body because the face drew his attention. That brooding face seemed threatening.

McCoy felt a little fearful, but oddly titillated, also. Had Spock actually come to him, even though Spock was consciously so obviously fighting against it?

Spock moved out of the shadows toward McCoy. It was no illusion or shadow. It was Spock.

McCoy gasped as he raised himself up slightly, then he said, “Spock?”

Spock took another step toward McCoy, and McCoy got scared. Spock’s face looked so intense, so single-minded, so hateful, that McCoy panicked. He started to say ‘Don’t’ and found that he could not talk. He could not move. All he could do was lie there with his locked elbows holding him partway up to a sitting position and watch the unblinking monster lumber toward him.

Spock looked down at his paralyzed victim, then reached down and ripped McCoy’s top sheet aside. McCoy made a whimpering noise in his throat, and his eyes enlarged and rolled wildly. Outside of that, he could not move.

“I told you it was over,” Spock thundered and reached down for McCoy.

McCoy tried to flatten himself against the bed, but he could not avoid the hands that were suddenly tearing at the pajama trousers that he had worn to bed.

Cold air swirled around McCoy’s nether regions as Spock then ripped off his own sweatpants to reveal his engorged penis. McCoy stared at the turgid organ as Spock crawled onto the bed and shoved roughly between McCoy’s yielding legs.

“Now you must pay for not listening to me,” Spock growled in the most hateful voice McCoy had ever heard. "You need to be taught a lesson."

Then with very little wasted motion, Spock forced McCoy’s legs toward McCoy’s chest and plunged into McCoy’s unsuspecting anus with a sudden lunge.

McCoy screamed, or tried to scream. No sound escaped his outstretched mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head as incredible pain ripped him apart. Over and over Spock hammered methodically into him, and over and over McCoy tried to scream but couldn’t.

This is how I die, McCoy thought, trying to scream in terror as my heart stops pumping in sympathy.

But McCoy lived. His heart did not stop pumping, and neither did Spock.

Then, when the terrible ordeal ended with Spock’s withdrawn and McCoy trying to catch his breath between sobs, the terrible pumping started over again. And again. And again.

Four times in one night. That orgy had to be some sort of record, McCoy thought as he fought for consciousness during the last brutal attack. Where was the Vulcan finding his stamina? How was he able to make himself tumescent so many times, let alone perform the hard, rhythmic thrusting? All McCoy had to do was lie there with his knees up near his shoulders, and that was strenuous enough activity for McCoy.

At one point McCoy found his ankles on Spock’s shoulders, and then Spock was sprawled over McCoy’s chest and wildly kissing McCoy’s mouth. McCoy could barely keep up so he wouldn’t get smothered. So this is what happened when Spock suppressed himself. It eventually came out in uncontrollable ardor that took over his body when he slept. He probably was unaware that he was acting this way, but McCoy was. And McCoy knew that he was going to be sore. Hard telling how Spock was going to be afterwards, but McCoy was interested only in surviving and nothing else.

At last Spock left McCoy, and McCoy passed out rather than went to sleep. He was almost late for his shift the next morning. His walk was stiff and he was quieter than usual, but otherwise he acted normal. That was good, because inside he was in turmoil.

How could he face another night of being barraged by Spock when he was already so sore and tired? All he wanted was to be left alone, and thankfully, he was. In fact, he was undisturbed for several nights, and he began to feel safe. Maybe it had all been some sort of fantastic dream. Maybe it had all been wishful thinking on his part. But dreams and wishful thinking shouldn’t hurt that badly.

Then he caught sight of Spock one day, and all sorts of lusts churned through him. Oh, hell, oh, hell, he thought. I want him. I want him so much. McCoy was worse than a teenager with some schoolyard crush. But just the sight of the Vulcan brought back all sorts of longings of being in Spock's arms again. McCoy just wished that he didn't have to be subjected to a brutal ravishment. Why couldn't Spock just love him?

McCoy spun to hurry away, but saw Spock’s turning toward him even as he whirled. He must’ve looked like a damn ice skater doing some sort of fancy spinning. He prayed that he didn’t crash into anyone and draw more attention to himself. Maybe he’d been lucky, and Spock hadn’t seen him.

But McCoy had been stirred by passion again. As he lay in his nearly dark quarters that night, he could not stop himself from thinking about Spock. Even though he knew it would hurt, McCoy yearned to be the recipient of Spock’s lovemaking again.

And, then, right on schedule, Spock appeared in the shadows and approached McCoy.

“No,” McCoy moaned and flipped on his stomach before the paralysis struck him and he couldn’t fend off his attacker.

He should’ve realized that Spock could reach him from his backside, also. In fact, access was actually easier. He realized his mistake when cold air struck his buttocks.

“Oh, hell!” he screamed as Spock ripped into him. Time, after time, after time.

Spock didn’t mouth kiss McCoy during these sessions, but he did work over McCoy’s shoulders and nape of his neck pretty liberally as he cradled McCoy from behind between intercourse sessions. He must’ve developed a liking for neck kissing on the ice planet. McCoy had to admit that he had a passion for the delicious nibbling on the back of his neck, too. Spock seemed almost tender with those kisses, also.

And his lovemaking wasn’t as rough as the first time, but McCoy really couldn’t tell the difference because he was already sore from the first night of Spock’s invasions.

At least the bastard had some variety, McCoy thought as he lay in the arms that held him in an iron grip. And it was almost nice to be sheltered that way. McCoy could almost feel protected if it wasn’t for the brutal attacks that seemed to be the only way that Spock could perform physically. It was almost as if some demon drove him, some incubus that came out of the heart of such of a good man to express an emotion that he could not bring himself to recognize when awake.

For Spock was a good man, just with this one tiny, little flaw. McCoy nearly guffawed with laughter at the absurdity of the situation he was in. Here he was encased as tightly as he could be in the unyielding arms of a brutal monster, yet McCoy was poking fun at that crazed monster. For McCoy knew that this monster really wasn’t Spock. It was just Spock’s errant emotions taking over. The good person himself lay sleeping in his own quarters.

So began a routine of brutal lovemaking with a few nights of rest in between the brutality. Otherwise, McCoy might not have survived the attacks. Neither might have Spock. That kind of activity really had to be strenuous on a body. Nightly encounters probably would have endangered the lives of both of them.

And nobody could help McCoy. There was nowhere in the universe that he could hide from Spock. M'Benga and Kirk both wanted to help, but couldn't. Nobody could. McCoy was on his own.

And then one night as McCoy ran those same thoughts through his mind for the thousandth time, he decided that if nobody could help him, he'd have to help himself. After all, what could Spock do to him? McCoy had been raped as hard and as harshly as imaginable. And he had survived. He lived in fear that the Vulcan would murder him with his hands. And he had somehow survived. Outside of slow torture and dying by inches, what else could Spock do to hurt or to humiliate him?

When it came down to it, how many times could Spock kill McCoy? How long could McCoy live with the fear of going to sleep because that’s when the evil incubus would come to attack him? Sometimes, a person has had too much of living in fear, and McCoy had come to that place. The arms holding him looked real, not a monster’s. And that’s probably what gave him the courage to do what he did. When you're at the bottom, the only direction is up.

McCoy was through. Either with living or fear, he didn't know. But it ended now.

McCoy rolled in the tight circle of Spock’s arms and faced Spock who blinked at McCoy's resistance.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” McCoy announced. "My fear is burned out of me. I've got nothing to lose, so retribution by you doesn't scare me now."

Spock looked startled.

“In fact, I love you." He twitched his eyebrows at Spock. "Crazy, huh? In spite of all you've done to me, I still love you. What do you think about that?”

Spock’s eyes widened, but he did not answer.

McCoy took that opportunity to lean in and kiss Spock on the lips. It was the sweetest, gentlest kiss he could muster from his vast array of kisses. He tried to tell Spock how sincere and true he was.

McCoy pulled back and flicked his eyes over the face of the monster who now seemed too paralyzed to move or to answer. All that Spock seemed able to do was to stare without blinking at McCoy. McCoy was suddenly in control.

“Love me back, darlin.’ Trust me. I’ve got so much love in me waiting for you. Just let me love you the way I’d like. It’ll be a better experience for both of us if we’re both working together. We can light up this part of the universe with the feeling I've got waiting for you. Just trust me to love you, darlin.' Take a chance on me. I'll make you glad you did.”

Spock’s only reply was to disappear in a silent ‘pop.’

“Huh?! What the hell?!” McCoy muttered, then frowned. "Well, if that isn't just about typical."

McCoy didn’t have to look down at himself to know that he was ready to party. That familiar tightening in his nether regions was shouting the news near and far. And his playmate had run away.

“All dressed up and nowhere to go,” he muttered to himself.

But he’d gotten one thing accomplished! He’d scared off the incubus! And love did it, not fear or anger.

Boy, did he have news for Jim Kirk!


	10. Why Jim Kirk Is Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Spock take Kirk's good advice and cut himself some slack?

“Mr. Spock, glad you could join me,” Kirk said heartily to his First Officer who was standing stiffly before him in Kirk’s quarters.

“You asked that I see you after our shift, Captain. I am merely obeying an order.”

“That you are, that you are. And you are very good at obeying orders, aren’t you, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked jovially.

“I try to be, sir,” Spock answered with just the smallest amount of hesitancy in his voice. Although he loved his captain dearly and would follow him anywhere, there were times when he thought that Kirk should practice some restraint. Other times, Spock secretly lived vicariously through Kirk’s many daring adventures. Kirk was the Galahad that we all wished we could be, but upbringing and common sense and, yes, lack of courage often held us back.

“Relax, relax, man! We’re off duty! No need to stand at attention now!”

“Thank you, Captain.” Spock assumed the ‘Parade Rest’ stance with his hands behind his back and his legs slightly spread.

"You could sit, if you wished. Then we both would be comfortably seated."

"I am completely at ease, Captain."

Spock didn’t look all that relaxed to Kirk, but Kirk figured that this was going to be as good as he would get from Spock.

“How have you been since your little adventure on the ice planet? Any ill effects?”

“Nothing worth mentioning, Captain. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been so distant since your return. I’ve hardly seen you anymore.”

“I have many projects that demand my attention, Captain.”

“Even when you're off duty?”

“Especially then, sir. I have many scientific experiments in the various labs which I am conducting for Star Fleet scientists. Then I have numerous scholars and musicians that I regularly contact in our ongoing research into the close relationship between mathematics and music.”

“And poetry, of course,” Kirk interjected with a tight smile.

“Of course, Captain. A line of good poetry is mathematically correct. Its precise symmetry is as pleasing to the senses as its wordage.”

“I’ve often heard that said.”

“That is because the precept is true, Captain.” Spock did enjoy a hearty discussion of philosophy without the nasty world of emotions entering in.

“Of course, it is. It sounds like you’re a busy man, Spock.”

“That I am, Captain. I do enjoy being intellectually stimulated and physically productive. That keeps the brain active and alert.”

“How about recreational activity?”

“Sir?”

“All of that work isn’t good for you, Spock. You know what they say: All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.”

“No, I did not know that they say that, Captain. I do not even know anybody named Jack.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t. Regardless, you’ve been working too hard. You’re looking a little peaked, too, like you’re not resting properly. Have you been having trouble sleeping lately?”

“Just lately. Why are you asking these questions about my personal health? Is this not an issue for the medical facility on this starship?”

“You mean, sickbay? Ordinarily, yes. But Dr. McCoy informs me that you have ignored directives to appear for health scans.”

Spock inwardly sighed in relief. He’d feared that this interview would be about other matters, matters that seemed to be lurking just beyond his vision, matters that he did not understand but knew were out there. And now he understood that he was simply going to be reprimanded about missed routine physicals.

“I feel that I am experiencing adequate health, Captain.”

“Well, now, that isn’t for you to determine, is it?” Kirk asked casually.

But Spock recognized the hidden barb in Kirk’s seemingly innocent words. He tensed. His unknown fears were being realized. This interview was about something personal.

“No, Captain, it is not for me to determine the status of my own health.” He hoped that Kirk would let the matter drop now.

“Had you been sleeping soundly up until a few days ago?”

How could Kirk know that fact?! Then he remembered that he had told Kirk that fact just a moment before. Concentrate, Spock told himself. Just because you are fuzzy about your sleep is no reason to tell anyone about it.

“Yes, Captain.”

“And what has changed?”

“I have had dreams lately.”

“About?”

Spock stirred and nearly broke the correct stance for Parade Rest. “Do I have to tell you, Captain? They are rather personal,” Spock pleaded.

“It’s for your own good, Commander.”

Spock grimaced, but complied. “It seems that I am hunting for something. Seeking something I cannot find.”

“And?”

“And I am prevented from finding what I am seeking.”

“Because?”

“If I knew that, Captain, I would not be frustrated!” Spock uncharacteristically snapped.

“Indeed.”

“I am sorry, Captain.”

“How did you sleep after you first returned from the ice planet?”

“Just fine, sir.” Hadn't Kirk asked that question before? Twice?!

“Upon awakening, did you ever note injuries on your body? Bruises? Scratched places?”

Spock shivered. How did Kirk know about that?! “Why do you ask, Captain?” Spock hedged so he wouldn’t have to lie and wouldn’t have to tell the truth, either.

“Oh, no reason, in particular. But if you would’ve had injuries and bruises, they couldn’t have been seen by the casual observer. Could they?”

Kirk had outfoxed him. The location of his markings were hidden by clothing. Kirk had been fishing for what he could learn, and Spock had clearly told him that his suspicions were true.

Spock decided to learn what Kirk knew for certain.

“What is the purpose for this line of questioning, Captain?”

Kirk sat forward. “Well, I suppose it is time for me to put my cards on the table, isn’t it?”

For some reason, Spock understood idioms when Kirk used them. At least he didn’t question Kirk. If he wondered at all what card playing had to do with their present discussion, he didn't voice it.

"I'll make myself clearer yet, Mr. Spock. The reason that you are here today is because you are not communicating with Dr. McCoy."

Spock frowned. "Sir?"

"You know that certain things will not go away because you refuse to deal with them, don't you?"

Spock did not want to show his exasperation by sighing, but he could not control a small rising of one eyebrow. "I have noticed that about Dr. McCoy, also. He can be persistent."

The ghost of a smile flicked across Kirk's amused face. "That's not exactly what I was meaning, but I can see your misunderstanding. It's my fault for not making that clearer. No, I meant something else."

Spock shifted uneasily.

“When you were on that ice planet, it got kinda serious for you guys, didn't it? In fact, your situation was getting dire. even life threatening. You saw that McCoy was losing heart and wouldn’t fight to live much longer, didn’t you? So you gave him a reason to live." Kirk looked at Spock pointedly. "Didn't you?”

Spock hung his head. Kirk knew. Of course, McCoy must've told Kirk about what had happened between them. “I did not know what else to do. I thought that the promise of new love would spark Dr. McCoy's incentive to live.”

“And it did. Nicely. But you made a couple of mistakes.”

“Sir?”

“You gave him the suggestion that he could not be rid of you. You said that you would live in his mind and would control him. And he believed you because he desperately wanted to live.”

“That was the plan, Captain. I wanted to give him something to hope for. I had to be adamant and forceful.”

“But you also said that he lived in your mind. All of that powerful suggesting added up to mistake number one.”

“I do not see how--”

“You will in a moment. You made him fall in love with you, and he wanted to live in order to explore that new love that you were offering. That worked like a charm. The trouble with charms, and love, is that they reflect back. Mistake number two was that you fell in love with him just as hard as he fell for you.”

“Captain!”

“And you are denying it,” Kirk said quickly before Spock could argue. “And that led to mistake number three that resulted from the other two mistakes.”

“And that was?” Spock asked, afraid of the answer, but knowing that he had to hear it.

“Two people, living in each others minds and loving each other, but not getting to bring that love to fruition. You, especially, trying to bury your feelings as if they'd never been stirred. What do you think happened? Your subconscious mind took care of it with a physical manifestation, a physical manifestation that has been attacking Dr. McCoy.”

Spock looked horrified at what Kirk was saying, but he knew he had to hear it to the end. Then maybe he would learn whatever was causing the vague uneasiness inside him. For he knew, in his secret heart, that something was terribly wrong.

“How?” Spock asked hollowly dreading the truth that he was about to hear. "How did I accomplish these attacks?"

Kirk decided to use McCoy’s quaint terms, because they really seemed the best words, after all.

“You went to him. In the night. And had your way with him.”

Spock wet his lips. “I--” Spock swallowed hard. "I could not have."

“Yes, you did. Spock, you assumed the form of an incubus, a phantom lover. And McCoy suffered sleep paralysis when he saw you. He could not escape you. He was at your mercy, but you showed him none at any time.”

Spock could hardly breath, let alone talk. But he had to hear it all. “Often? Did I, did I do this evil thing to him often?”

“Several times.”

“Was he injured?”

“Yes. So was your scrotum. It had to have been damaged.”

Spock nodded, then looked ill. “Am I still doing it?” he asked, almost in a whisper.

“No. That’s why you are having the nightmares now. You cannot get to him because he called your bluff. You cannot hurt him any longer.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Spock pursed his lips. “I will stay away from him. I will transfer. I will leave Star Fleet. I cannot harm him again.”

“No. Denial is what caused this whole mess. The only way you can clean up this mess is to accept that you have feelings for McCoy.”

“I. Cannot.”

“Spock. It’s love. It ain’t something bad,” Kirk said with a grin. “You might even get to liking it. Most people do.”

“But, but, but he cannot even wish to see me again. After what I did to him, he probably wishes to have nothing to do with me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Spock,” Kirk said with a grin. “The one thing about love is that it is very forgiving. Now, I’m not saying that you’ll have smooth sailing with McCoy. Far from it, I’d expect. But that’s fun, too. Because makeup sex is a gift from the gods!”

“Captain, I do not know if I could ever be as exuberant about all of this as you are.”

Kirk laughed. “You’ve never had McCoy in a clinch when you were both equal, have you?!” 

Spock felt a surprise twinge of jealousy. “And you have?” he asked icily.

“Oh, hell, Spock, you’ve got it so bad for him!”

“I do?”

“Oh, yeah! Those black eyes were just snapping at me! You were ready to tear limbs off me!"

"I was?" Spock asked in wonder.

"You were. Now, get out of here and go claim your sweetheart!”

“Captain--” Spock said hesitantly. "He cannot wish to see me."

“Trust me, Spock,” Kirk said, touching Spock’s forearm. “McCoy is fair. Just be honest with him, and you might be pleasantly surprised.” He slapped Spock’s arm. “It can’t hurt to try!”

Spock didn’t know about it. He wished that he was as certain as Kirk was about all of this.

 

“Come,” McCoy said, answering the chime of his door. When Spock stepped inside, McCoy jumped to his feet and looked startled. He also looked like he was about to bolt. “Uh, Mr. Spock.”

Spock stopped as the door slid shut behind him. “Is it alright if I speak with you?”

McCoy nodded. “I suppose.”

Spock took a couple more steps but stopped when he saw McCoy brace himself and prepare to step backwards.

“Why are you here?” McCoy asked awkwardly. It was obvious that he was trying to keep the fear and mistrust out of his voice, but he was obviously dubious about his guest. After all, the Vulcan had said barely two words to him since their return from the ice planet. And now, here he was, in McCoy's quarters. That's quite a switch. "Did you want something in particular?"

Spock abruptly went down on his knees and held out a small bouquet of flowers that he had been holding behind his back. “I want your forgiveness, Doctor.”

McCoy sucked his breath in sharply and frowned. But he could not say anything.

“I did not realize what I had been doing to you at night until Jim explained it to me. I apologize for violating you so brutally. You must hate the sight of me.”

“Well, to be fair, it was just part of you.”

“But enough of me was here to injure you.”

“Well, yeah,” McCoy admitted lamely.

“Will you not accept the flowers?”

“They are just a token for you.”

Spock pursed his lips and lowered his hand with the flowers. His head lowered at the same time. McCoy was refusing everything. It was plain that he hated Spock. Intense pain shot through the guilt-ridden Spock, and he knew that his heartache was showing on his face.

“Oh, hell, give me those damn flowers before you start bawling!” McCoy snapped as he snagged the small bouquet out of Spock's hand. "I feel like I kicked a starving dog who wanted just a little kindness and a crust of bread!" He turned aside and found a drinking glass to cram the flowers into. “And get off your damn knees before you injure yourself! The floor is no place for a man!”

“Yes, it is,” Spock argued as he awkwardly pulled himself up. He didn’t do that as agilely as he used to do. “A repentant man should always be on his knees.”

“Says you,” McCoy muttered as he messed with the flowers. A few harshly treated petals fell off the flowers, but McCoy ignored the mess he was making of the fragile blossoms. Anything, not to give his full attention to the Vulcan. He was at a loss for words and didn't want to show it. Besides, sudden tears were stinging his eyelids, and he didn't want to give into them.

“Do you believe that I am sorry, Doctor?”

“I believe that your conscious mind didn’t know what it was doing.”

“And now that I am fully awake?”

“I think that you’re sorry, but you really don’t know what you did.”

“Was it a brutal experience for you?”

“It wasn’t always pleasant.”

“I am sorry.”

“But it wasn’t always unpleasant, either.”

Spock’s head snapped up with hope. “I was not always a bad person?”

“No,” McCoy said softly. “You held me. Afterwards. And you cuddled me. And kissed me. And made me feel beloved. It was like seeing two sides of an extreme personality. I knew that you weren't entirely evil. I knew that it wasn't hatred driving you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“I believe that you are being generous. And I believe that I do not deserve your forgiveness.” Spock went down on his knees again.

McCoy gasped at the desperate gesture.

“Beat me!" Spock begged. "Hurt me! So that I can feel repentant!”

“What the hell?!” McCoy forgot the flowers and stomped the glass down so hard that the small amount of water in the bottom sloshed violently. “Get up from there!”

“Not until you forget me.”

"Very well, I'll join you!" McCoy went down on his knees in front of Spock, too.

“No! No! You must not be down here with me!”

“We are equals, damn it! And we have equal feelings for each other! You just have to admit it! That’s what you should be asking forgiveness for! That’s what drove you here at night! Your need for me! Not a devil in your soul!”

“And you believe that I can be forgiven?”

McCoy grinned widely. “Darlin,’ I’m banking on it!”

"You will give me another chance?"

"I'm not down here to argue, damn it! I'm here to help you. Just trust me. Love me back."

"You will give me time?"

"All the time you need." McCoy paused a moment. "Time's up!"

Spock looked startled.

"No more nightmares! For either of us! Yours asleep and mine awake! Now, come here, Vulcan! Let's pretend we're back on that ice planet!"

"Well, it is cold enough in your quarters to be an ice planet."

"Now's a helluva time to be developing a sense of humor! Let me warm you up!"

They fell into each others arms and began kissing each other hungrily. At one point, they sprawled all over the floor.

“I’ve got a perfectly good bed right over there,” McCoy suggested after awhile.

“Good idea.” Spock grabbed McCoy up in his arms and headed for the little love nest that his body knew so well.

McCoy looked up at him from the bed. “Just take your time this time, okay? There’s lube in the table drawer beside the bed. I'd gotten it, just in case I could slow you down.”

Spock gave McCoy a wicked smile. “I intend to go really slow, Leonard. I intend to take all night.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I had a long nap then this afternoon, isn’t it?” McCoy asked as Spock sank into his waiting arms. "Because I'm not willing to miss a single thing!"

"Shut up, Leonard, before I have to get firm with you," Spock murmured as happiness flowed through him.

McCoy's eyes flicked over that rugged face so close to his. "Just as long as you get firm FOR me, darling,' we'll get along just fine."

"No problem, Leonard. I believe that I have already achieved that agreeable condition."

McCoy grinned with pleasure. "Damned if you haven't."

And then there was no more time for talking, only for loving each other.

 

“See?” Kirk said with a smirk the next day at lunch as he looked across the mess hall table at his two friends sitting squeezed closely together. “It all worked out okay. You and Spock got to be friends. Well, friends with benefits. It just took, ah, longer than I had planned. The ice planet was supposed to have worked its magic charm on you, instead of rebuffing you.”

“You’re just lucky that we love you, that’s all I can say!” McCoy snapped. He tried to be angry, but he was so damn happy that he could barely stand himself. He loved the way that Spock's body was plastered up against one side of him. They were probably causing all kinds of scandal for the other diners, but he didn't care. They were probably just jealous, anyway.

“Doctor, he did serve as our Cupid. Perhaps you should not be angry with him.”

“That’s right, Bones. Not everyone is lucky enough to wind up with a trophy like Spock.”

“The minute the Vulcan starts snoring, he’s outa my bed, though!” McCoy snapped. “Then you inherit him, Kirk!”

Yeah, fat chance of that, Kirk thought, but grinned at McCoy in agreement, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
